Desperately Trying to Lie Down

Sometimes you were held, fondled, commented upon, weren’t you? Yet I was told that nobody else had ever wanted you or had even asked about you, that I was the first one who had asked about you. When I grasped at you, twisted you, I saw some strands of your hair, the rather imprecise sketch of your eye, the overwhelming importance of your eye, and one of your eyebrows desperately trying to lie down sweetly on your brow, and with this view in mind, your face is as composed as my vulva is. I would like to suggest that the smartest, the strongest, the most perfect person in the universe is my property.

I am the dark one, the short one, the thick one, the coarse one, who is so unsatisfied with all of my suggestions.

You said, “Here, let me help you,” and there was such a really happy expression on your face that you must have been happy.