Having my way with Ulysses

It is. It is.

There is such loneliness in that gold. The moon of the nights is not the moon whom the first Adam saw. The long centuries of human vigil have filled her with ancient lament. Look at her. She is your mirror. 1:59 pm

He didn’t see me, light in his eyes.  Blazing.  It was him, surely. I couldn’t look!  Saw and turned to the right fast, denying my short breath and looking cool until my heart could break.  Headed for museum.  Goddesses.  My heart!  Still quopping.  Think goddesses, cream curves of stone.  Cold.  Didn’t look.  Pockets.  Looked for something.  Kibbutz, where did I?  Potato, soap.  Need to get her lotion.  Then safe!  Safe.  Is it?  Afternoon, she said.  In the afternoon.  Almost certain.  Yes it is.  Yes, that.  Not see.  Get on.

2 Responses to It is. It is.

Intercourse, eyeball to eyeball.