Deux chambres discrètes (à Alain Robbe-Grillet)

Well, now the flesh is still intact: the black fleece and a white belly, the soft curve of the hips, narrow waist and pearly breasts that rise at the option of rapid breathing, in which the rhythm is still precipitating. You against her, one knee in the floor, you lean more. Head with long curly hair, which alone has preserved some freedom of movement, moves, struggles, the mouth of the girl opens and twists, while the flesh yields, the blood spurted on the tender skin, tense, the black eyes widen disproportionately, the mouth opens more, the head goes right and left, with violence, one last time, then more gently, at the end fall back and stop in the mass of black hair.