Your feeling and the wildness you were taught to disown move in as one tide, no shoreline between them. The Moon sits welded to the Black Moon, so when something moves you, the untamed feeling rises right along with it, and there is an undertow in your tenderness people sense before they can name it. You do not soothe from what is acceptable. You soothe from the part that was never tamed out of you. No body in the sky is doing this. It is the calculated apogee, the exiled feeling folded into your care, heart and wildness bending along one angle. The trap is reading every surge as gospel. That depth is worth more informing the bond than flooding every quiet hour with weather it never asked for.