He smoothed the mosquito netting on her sad skin. This galactic maiden sleepwalker was beginning to have effects on his senses. He’d had lovers dazzle even his solitude before, even his mighty heart. But her frenzied mermaid struggles, her wet anaconda face, her palliative song and the sensual unintelligibility of its lyrics—it was all instrumentation for a very quiet and lovely sleep he didn’t want to wake from. Usually he did not have a moment’s rest until he felt his own sleepwalker senses gasp and strangle. Now his gasping felt routine next to the magnetic satellite of her body.