One morning the sky is clotted with clouds like mouldy cream and you want to cry. You want to cry but you can't.
This is Go d sig
(a) (o) (n)
It means you've lost yourself, somewhere, like the shadow of a boy who wouldn't grow up. You only want to feel weightless, feel ephemeral, feel like the bubbles on the blue washing up liquid, like the dragonflies, out in the fields.
This is p hetic.