I saw him in the laboratory, but there were no more walls, no doors, no locked spaces.He is standing by his illuminated computer in a drenched and streaming torrent of thick green, a sinister vegetable green. The plants rustle and gleam all around him, fresh, succulent and suggestive. There is an evil smell of rotting compost. I look carefully into the shifting, glistening vegetation and see the terrified mass of eyes, dilated, feral, all fixed upon him. I am the only person who is not afraid. Roehm’s gaze holds me in thrall. His glare is fertile with intent, but he is waiting, waiting for me to make the first move. I remember his kiss, that stealthy, gentle kiss, the taste of his cigarettes and his cold lips. He is waiting for my permission, my invitation. It is up to me. And in my dream I see myself as if I am two people. And one is pressed, sweating, terrified, against the damp slab of heat and the other, supple, erotic, a boy sure of his power to entice and to possess, reaches out a hand towards this strange and powerful man whose gaze never ebbs, whose attention, predatory and passionate, is all my own.
