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white skin slick with fever the skin of sweat dry and wet dry and wet waking asleep hard to tell mind drawling on the surface toadslack gulping slow feet too far away too close who can tell sliding down the ranges of the bed like Lenz leaping down huge headed which way up down sideways everything too close too far away the huge tedium of just living and back here muscles blocked and sad who am I aching nonself ache the ache of feet two feet I think four shivering hands eight temples three eyes eighteen magic fingers hurt so much beautiful like icecaps makes everything personal boring in between amorphous body somehow memoryless and ahistorical only the present but not sharp not active vague and dull a heavy pulse somewhere in the middle distance and the self sliding nowhere gone unrecognisable unable erotic I might be anyone anything %%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%