Suns and moons

You know, my brother, my sister, Neptune lurks within me. You probably don't care about sky charts or my rantings, but I'm telling you they move and speak to me, these images and planets. I'm one of many who have observed them and listened to them. There's a wisdom in them that you don't know and that I can barely decipher. But they're there, I tell you.

If you knew the geometry of your birth and nourished yourself with your symbols instead of unconsciously enduring them, I hope you find one or more meanings, a path, and a direction for your life. Your cycles are mirrors of what's going on around your sun. It's the same for me, who's currently lost in my life's benevolent, creative uncertainty.

I'd like to know the symbols that animate you. They're undoubtedly close to mine - we're part of the same species, but all the same. Every nuance in your eyes is a world of its own, different from my colours. Everything is lost so quickly in the hours that elude us.

The Moon, the stars, round rocks, fertile oceans. They're light-years away from our bodies, yet fused to our skins. Why can't we see what there is to see?

You know, the slow dissolution of my thoughts has been going on since I was born. It's going on like those glaciers that wake up at the poles and crackle on all sides. My soul is gradually uncovering itself, emaciated by so much frost. What I'll be tomorrow may be made of ice. My imagination is already lost in a fog of possible images.

Neptune's time will pass, but the dance of the gods will not stop there. Even when I'm dead, my stars, those of my blood, will swirl in the chaos of a distant oblivion.

If each of these worlds, I fancy, could contain a single gram of truth...

And you, what colours are your dreams made of?