She visits me when the lights are out, 
when the sun is loving another
part of the world.

She passes through the net I sleep under  like 
a cloud its holes are easily navigable.

Her buzzing tells me that
she doesn't want my legs  arms  cheeks 
or chest.

No.

She craves adventure  wanting to travel through 
the dark canal  the spiraling cave 
where earthquakes are wind.

Her prize is in sight  the gelatinous mass controlling this machine. 
How beautiful she thinks it is  her needle mouth
filling with water.

Her children will know physics  geometry  will understand 
English  Spanish  perhaps Portuguese. They will be 
haunted their whole lives by trees  guns
and a boom that won't cease.

She cries before drinking  the fluid is 
salty-sweet. Oh if my mother had 
done this for me  I would have lived.