I often think about many things. My mind is always in a constant rage of thoughts, particular feelings, spoon fed poetry that keeps me awake at night. Last night I dream up sunflowers, I fancied the idea that their petals plucked gold, they struck plasma casting leaflets onto my husks. Yellow smiled back at me, they sang a song, ‘I love you I love you not’ until the last one dripped. They loved me.