Borrow my imagination for a little while. How can I comfort you? You say you
like it this way.
Night or day – it's the same to you.
Until that day I plant mercury globe flowers in my garden and until that night
your beams make the flowers explode and spread your seeds.
Comfort? Yeah like putting plasters on a limb consumed by leprosy. Comfort?
Yeah like sticking the head in the sand.
I conjured a miserable creature for you. A restless moonling always on the
move. It founded its own nomadic state – Translunaria.
The moonling can never be seen from earth.
Braiding moonbeams.
How can I comfort you? You like it this way, don't you? Slowly revolving a
white horizon round your axis.
You magnetism is so weak, you can hardly keep the ivory tower I conjured for you.
How can I? You say you don't want it. You say you don't need it. How can I?
You don't care at all, do you?