But more often in the very act of caressing her I am overcome with sleep as if polelaxed, fall into oblivion… — J. M. Coetzee
But more often in the very act of caressing her I am overcome with sleep as if polelaxed, fall into oblivion sprawled upon her body, and wake an hour or two later dizzy, confused, thirsty. These dreamless spells are like death to me, or enchantment, black, outside time.
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