Eyes opened now,

Left arm tingling, jeering

The stifling issues I tried to sleep.

Under the covers still,

Sweat yellowing the sheets, cowardly yellow,

With my pillow beckoning:

'Some problems

You cannot help

To sleep.'

Forsaken pillow, you warmed brute;

You molested my problems

With cool, deceitful comfort.

Dare I say, waking now,

You failed to console a napper.

My sheets are yellow, my arms ...

Mauve acrylic paint dripped off the canvas—tan, plump, and soft. Indeed, the canvas was the skin of Donna Vitti.

"Gustav! My calves please, paint them so," began she. "And Gianluca! Grab the brush and get to my neck!"

Donna Vitti sat in a mauve armchair in a mauve room; she only let the light in through the cracks of her mauve curtains. The purple was dripping off her, a melting monster one with h...