Moonsickness
You're a crazy piper
at the gates of sunset,
your cold bitter kisses
are masters of the tides.
You're the eyewitness
of my evil sorrow,
you're a hanging spirit,
you're the usher of the sky.
Your amazing paleness
is a milky hammer,
you're the whispering mirror,
you're my favourite satellite
with cryptographical smile,
prayer with one foot in the grave,
you're the only thing
that can?t be named.
Soon this rhapsody in blue
will become a ridiculous tune,
of course
always dedicated to the moon.
Finally dust to dust
and ashes to the sea,
a moonlight bath,
my longed-for cure-all.
Other worlds to discover
that no one is real,
as a whole
the beginning and the fall.
Here I am, in the rain,
with nothing to explain.
I can't recall
the way we were.
Overseas
we'll find a place
to think about
the things we leave in the end.
