In the sizzle of the frying pan in the chill of the night in the streaky pale of floors that have been stripped of their wax in the waking life nightmare daydream awakened in the cloud obscured retina burning halographic sunlight in the timbre and tone and skin threads of a cat's meow in the geometric patterns of muted amber shellaced and seashell windows in the dusty wax vinyl grooved scratched slightly warped wobbly records in the highlights and lowlights and dark roots of her hair in the sea of green and blue and industrial tan of the rooms in the twilight masked by the haze of good wine and smoke here i am, world, take me somewhere nice...