Having my way with Ulysses

Do you know what thought did?

My voice dying in the echoes of its words, dies like the wisdom-wearied voice of the Eternal calling on Abraham through echoing hills. She leans back agains the pillowed wall: odalisque-featured in the luxurious obscurity. Her eyes have drunk my thoughts: and into the moist warm yielding welcoming darkness of her womanhood my soul, itself dissolving, has streamed and poured and flooded a liquid and abundant seed . . . . . . Take her now who will! 11:57 pm

Well hello there kisses, how’re they hanging? You dress right. Is left a bit lacking there? Well, not everybody’s symmetrical. Hello! what the hell is this, a what is this? Potato? What do you do with it? Want to show me, come in inside. No, that’s not church music. Well, maybe it is, I don’t know. Some guy in there playing the piano, a parson or something. He your kid? Wanna be my daddy? I thought maybe but ok. Come on honey, lend me your ear a little, hey mousey. Let me have a little bite.

Intercourse, eyeball to eyeball.