You dream the impossible building, and your hands keep reminding you to raise only what the lumber can actually bear. Neptune rides one arm of the see-saw with the imagination that has no walls, Saturn the other with the structure that has to stand. Dream and a verdict says you built nothing. Build and you carry a quiet ache of having sold out the true thing. So you freeze between two worlds: the one already standing and the one not yet given a body. Let the dream be the sketch and the structure be the way you honor it. Reality with no imagination wastes away. Imagination with no reality never once touches ground. You are the bridge laid across the two.