Pool_2

"Oh, I have. I see them now. They are embellished with virginal pale pink nipples as blessed and pure as goddess Diana's. Pointing and proud, I see them casting shadows. I see each nipple beaming as radiantly as the chariot of Phoebus. From them I throw two long shadows. I set in the west of your slumber. In their warmth, I deny my precipice and embrace the wolf." She was silent. She felt embarrassed that she could not pick bouquets of such words, although any phrase from her lips was, to him, "a field of lilies". Lilies, symbolic of purity but also of pallid death, Gavin paused, sniffled a bit, then in a lost reverie droned straight down into the floor, "Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita mi retrovai per una selva oscura che' la dritta via era smarrita," as Katharine was trying to get him back by whispering his name in the breathing pauses of his drone. He briefly acquiesced with an aside, "You are my strain as I your burdon," the latter referring to the drone of a bag pipe. Katharine again whispered his name as he regressed, "Di sotto al capo moi son li altri tratti che precedetter me simoneggiando per la fessure de la pietra piatti." Here he paused and she embraced him with, "That's Dante. Right?" "Yes. We are in his nightmare. It seems fitting." She was now getting rather desperate to pull him back from the 'precipice', the plunging depression of which he was capable. She had passed this way before only to lose the night whispering "Gavin!" over echoes of Dante and undampened sobbing that cleansed the concrete of his blood spattered beneath the door. "Gavin! Tell me about my nipples!" That got him. " My Caitlin," as pronounced in his Gaelige there was scant difference between Caitlin and Katharine which only a trained ear could distinguish.