. Are you my sunshine, on which an opiate resembling do I thrive and dedicate my life? Or do we both glimmer dimly together, till our courtship a lightstorm begets and we are Apollo himself? I move in closer and wrap myself around you and the answer don’t matter. We are Apollo and you are …

. I We make strange bedfellows. These are monsoon daydreams as we snuggle closer under the blankets, the pillows like firmaments of fortresses and we close ourselves from all the racket. The noise the city the traffic the sirens. Someone high and mighty is passing by again in his stained glass limousine escorted by patrolmen …