May I be excused (again)

This soft evening light can't last.
The light shapes move towards me, shaping me, threatening impermanence.
Nothing lasts.
It's the moment of optimism for nocturnal possibility and the relief I survived another day.
Quiet descends, my tears sting, despite being eyeliner free/loveliner free.
Red cockrel wattle/displays of courtship.
Permanently marked names of animals on aging hand/desire to be loved by goats.