Hopscotch - pg. 33

You look at me, from close up you look at me, closer and closer and then we play cyclops, we look closer and closer at one another and our eyes get larger, they come closer, they merge into one and the two cyclopses look at each other, blending as they breathe, our mouths touch and struggle in gentle warmth, biting each other with their lips, barely holding their tongues on their teeth, playing in corners where a heacy air comes and goes with an old perfume and a silence. Then my hands go to sink into your hair, to cherish slowly the depth of your hair while we kiss as if our mouths were filled with flowers or with fish, withh lively movements and dark fragrance. And if we bite each other the pain is sweet, and if we smother each other in a brief and terrible sucing in together of or breaths, that momentary death is beautiful. And there is but one saliva and one flavor os ripe fruit, and I feel you tremble against me like a moon on the water.