Under a hostile moon you join fissures; images from 1988 that come to your mind in whirls, like the worst nightmares you've ever dreamed.
Titanic shots from a Polaroid that don't want to disappear, making history [in horror] at every image.
They are like your insecure part...I always give you all, though sometimes I keep something in the dark.
You sleep wrapped in fish nets made of rope, as your Gemini throws riddles under the water.
Your sleep is built in riddles under the water, symbols, enigmas.
They are like my insecure part.
.
