Fucking with love must be the gift of God. His eyes his nose his hot breath the shadow under his neck his thick arms the fat around his sides the bones sticking out of his thighs his cock waving in that mess of hair I want him so much I'm going crazy. I want his eyes I want his nose I
want his hot breath reeking all over my body I want to stick my tongue in neck I want his arms around me I've forgotten what it's like to want a man I roll my hands in his fat and bite it and rub my dying-to-come hips against the bones sticking out of his thighs so maybe maybe I'll come that way his cock, if I could just touch his cock just for a second, I don't want to touch it more than that, a quick kiss, wet and slimy, don't take me away from it, don't take me away from it you creep meanie: this is my home.
'Who's your brat's father?'
'I love him. I'm not going to tell you who he is.'
'I'm going to find out who he is. I'm simply interested who he is. I am one of the most brilliant men in America and Europe and can learn anything. I'm going to find out who he is!'
She shivers before this example of the divorcement of body and mind. She's seeing terror and hatred and hypocrisy beginning to spread over the earth.
'Don't you tell anyone who I am.'
WHEN SOMEONE'S IN PAIN, HE CRIES OUT.
One day Janey finds a Persian grammar book. She begins to teach herself Persian: