Four Degrees Below Zero

there is an atmosphere of
four degrees below zero
the hemisphere grows dark
and the moon is my hero —

there is finally snow in
the air of constant pollution
call me my own frenemy
in this land of confusion —

the inner circle is white
they don’t need to hide
anything anymore

there is no dark side of
the moon in our space
behave like it was yesterday
and laugh into my face —

there is a dark mind on
our own planet though
actually there are several
lets cover them with snow —

the inner circle is white
we just need to hide
anyone somewhere

there is a broken mirror on
the middle of the busy street
but no-one stops and asks
where broken minds can meet —

there is a universe from
anywhere I want to raise my chin
as far as I can tell I’m being
comfortable in my own skin.