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.