Second Passage from a Work in Process (to be called The Dive Coast)
— Jim McKeon —
The gauzy veil obscuring what Goethe called the eternal feminine
ever so briefly clears…
Gillian suddenly moves in her chair lifting one hand to the back of her neck. She raises her glass to her mouth. She had finished her drink, but as she tilts the glass back, a cube of ice slowly slides down until it rests against her glistening parted teeth, then opening her mouth guiding the ice
with the tip of her tongue, lets it glide into her mouth where it appears improbably between cheek and teeth.
I ask myself do they practice these things? Are they aware of the strange effect they have, that apparently without effort, they are able to affect one so?
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