The Extraordinary's The Norm.

Superman Is, After All, An Alien Life Form. He Is Simply The Acceptable Face Of Invading Realities.

We Are The Star And The Darkness It Peirces

I Dreamed I Spoke In Another's Language, I Dreamed I Lived In Another's Skin, I Dreamed I Was My Own Beloved, I Dreamed I Was A Tiger's Kin. I Dreamed That Eden Lived Inside Me, And When I Breathed A Garden Came, I Dreamed I Knew All Of Creation, I Dreamed I Knew The Creator's Name. I Dreamed--and This Dream Was The Finest-- That All I Dreamed Was Real And True, And We Would Live In Joy Forever, You In Me, And Me In You.

Even Winter — The Hardest Season, The Most Implacable — Dreams, As February Creeps On, Of The Flame That Will Presently Melt It Away. Everything Tires With Time, And Starts To Seek Some Opposition, To Save It From Itself.

The Moon Had Risen Behind Him, The Color Of A Shark's Underbelly. It Lit The Ruined Walls, And The Skin Of His Arms And Hands, With Its Sickly Light, Making Him Long For A Mirror In Which To Study His Face. Surely He'd Be Able To See The Bones Beneath The Meat; The Skull Gleaming The Way His Teeth Gleamed When He Smiled. After All, Wasn't That What A Smile Said? Hello, World, This Is The Way I'll Look When The Wet Parts Are Rotted.