You are my raincoat love caffeine. You harbour me, and coddle me, and feed me a sugarline that keeps me awake, consciousness of my surroundings. And we like Leda and Pollux, the twins of the stars, gather each other in grasps of flesh, so alike yet so unlike each other it drives us insane at times. People think in images, concrete, visible things, not so with us. Just a shimmer of remembrance that once floated in the imagination sets our souls alight with knowledge. Knowledge of each other, even though the veil between us, though thin is still there. There keeping us far enough apart that people can’t see our bondage unless their faces upturned are to the stars. For in the stars is our fortune, our own commodity of happiness. For there in those sparkling spots in the dark oblivion of space hold our history for all to see if they really look. Our love, yes our love, it’s a part of our history as much as anything. Or I’d like to think so. Many think it’s wrong to love, more to lust after someone so like you, but the face that we complete each other gives us the chance to prove them wrong. That this seduction into paradise is the most natural thing in the world, not something black and filled with tar. (Which they’d like you to think it is). And you are always there my raincoat love caffeine. A Galahad, a Romeo of sorts leading me blindfolded into a Zionistic heaven, so like the blue raincoat I imagine you wear when the weather’s gone soft.