Your longing to dissolve into something larger and the hunger you were told to disown run as one current, no membrane between them. Neptune sits welded to the Black Moon, so when you dream, the untamed appetite dreams right along with you, and there is a charge under your reverie that is not innocent. People feel the pull of it. You do not yearn from what is pure. You yearn from the part that will not be house-trained. No body adrift in the sky lends you this. It is the calculated apogee, the exiled desire threaded through the vision along a fixed angle your longing follows. The trap is mistaking the haze for depth. That current is worth more naming a real thirst than just blurring the room.