You love by night - by crescent (and full) moons, by chilling breezes, by sparkling stars, by sparkling souls. By night, your secrets run loose, unguardedly released in your drunken haze. (Night intoxicates you - mind, soul, heart. This is not something you can help.) The darkness makes you feel both safe and vulnerable - a blanket and an open expanse - and so you are wrapped and exposed all at once.

You are braver at night, and by way of being braver, more foolish as well. You say and do things in the night you would never during the day, under the light, when people look and see you as you appear (as opposed to in the dark, when people look and see you, just you). The night manipulates you into making raw gut choices and daring to risk and stripping yourself of caution, much like a healthy dose of booze but a little more classy.

But you do not hold grudges, because in the end, the night is sweeter. It is sweeter and it is stronger and it is freedom and it is terrifying and it makes you feel things you do not understand - hopeless contradictions and ambiguous blurs and it is sharp and clear and misty and cloudy and you don’t get it, not at all, but God, is it not the best thing?

You love in silhouettes, and in shadows. You love above dewy grass and damp, scattered pine needles, through soft, whistling winds and the cyclic prattling of insomniac crickets. You love with wider eyes, peering to find the stories hidden underneath flickering street lights. You love across gleaming rivers. Across seas. Across worlds.

They say the night brings you love, but really the night brings you life.