“Yes! Indian sex Because only the love of Karajan will satisfy me! But Karajan turns from me, looks out the window. Karajan would pick up my body, my body which is neither living nor dead, and he would keep it warm. Perhaps I crave this kind of attention. But I honestly don’t know what he is talking about. Smirking. “I want all the names. The sun goes down so early; the city is far away, is nothing to speak of. Karajan brought me back to life. Each corresponds with its own degree of perversity. Even if Karajan were not watching—and he is, and were there no camera, and there is, were I to raise this window up without a sound, and creep through, if the vines could hold my limber body on the way down, if they did not break, and were I to race across the overgrown lawn with a whisper, unheard even to my myself—Karajan would
