I drop acid in my dreams with a thick rimmed moon,
so heavy and vivid I try to pluck it out of the sky like a pill.
It smiles at me until holes burn through its eyes.
The acid burns through me and I look into a mirror
to see my eyes, too, are like deep pits.
Corrosive memories seeping over me in waves,
the moon is in retrograde,
an illusion of the past before me,
much too alluring, like the gravity of an entire solar system.
Yet its pull is insignificant when compared
to the fire alive in your eyes; suns brighter than Sirius.
My head swims in oceans of delirious notions
threatening to drown me.