Into the torrid zone, pushing into the darkness, the heat of the jungle surrounds me. Dripping pungent perspiration, the finger like branches of dark trees rested upon my straining shoulders. Tipped tremors shake my arms where the ripe venture strains onward, deeper, further into darkness, into the heart of the jungle, where silence is black. Black night melts around me, enclosing my lonely eye in night fire, pulling the jungle over me in a sultry and black invisibility; salient and pulsing with wet black paint and a riot of grasping fauna. From the tree, night sap flows into the jungle's life and the dark safari ends panting, spent-absorbed under the damp fauna and orgasmic jungle floor.