I dine on fog and mildew to fortify my intestine. Sleep suffocates me. I wake up many times in the night to search the room for my breath. I call the nurse at 3 AM. She asks me about the lightbulb in my bathroom and about the music water makes ringing down the drain. I wonder if she's in uniform, if she smiles behind her surgical mask. I wonder if she would take a walk with me in the foggy parking lot behind the hospital. And I wonder if she would let me remove her surgical mask and kiss her under the dripping power lines.