Named after the moon, ever changing
Layered like an onion, which I hate
Afraid of the freest and most beautiful live things to fly the Earth
Walking metamorphosis, I am, yet there’s no relief
Breaking out of my mind would be suicidal
The paths I walk through my brain keep it in place
Caressing every brick and bush and windowpane –
It’s in the contrasts that you can see my face
Now where to steer the ship now? Captain and crew want to know
I put my toes in the water to confirm it’s too cold
Metaphorically speaking, it’s better to dive in
I’ve heard it’s the bottom of the sea that guards all gold.
