he moves as a forever approaching sloth slowly yet defiantly. his ability to force upon drowsiness is like the drawing of a bow— the longer I hold back, the more difficult it is to resist. a moment in his presence is enough for the two small sisyphi pushing my eyelids apart to stumble; just as they always do. after he has won, after the weight of the day keeps my head on my pillow, he sets an elephant loose in my room, to rest on my chest, waiting for me to wake.