Unhappiness

Condensing – dripping slowly, dolorously
and dissociatively into this chilly unlit
predawn mourning of a morning

like the cold sweat of a shell-shocked youth –
unassailably, inalienably convinced
of one dark truth – which nobody can name:

beyond shame, conflict, symptom,
cause or blame – slowly and centripetally
spinning inward like a vortex – gently sucking

at the heart – nursing you in its dark art
of a despondency: the rain today explains
exactly nothing but implosion and surrender.

You pray that no one tries to cheer you up.
It’s too voluptuously done already: right;
living as if day were an irrevocable night.

.