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Nol's Birthday

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Taken from "Sun" by D.H. Lawrence.

...
Juliet  sat  down  by  the cypress trees and took off her clothes. The contorted
cactus  made  a  forest, hideous yet fascinating, about her. She sat and offered
her  bosom  to the sun, sighing, even now, with a certain hard pain, against the
cruelty of having to give herself.

But  the  sun marched in blue heaven and sent down his rays as he went. She felt
the  soft  air  of  the  sea  on her breasts, that seemed as if they would never
ripen.  but  she  hardly  felt the sun. Fruits that would wither and not mature,
he breasts.

Soon,  however,  she  felt  the sun inside them, warmer that ever love had been,
warmer  than  milk  or  the hands of her baby. At last, as last her breasts were
like long white grapes in the hot sun.

She  slid  off  all  her  clothes  and  lay naked in the sun, and as she lay she
looked  up  through  her fingers at the central sun, his blue pulsing roundness,
whose  outer  edges  streamed  brilliance.  Pulsing  with  marvellous  blue, and
alive,  and  streaming white fire from his edges, the sun ! He faced down to her
with  his  look  of  blue  fire,  and  enveloped  her  breasts and her face, her
throat, her tired belly, her knees, her thighs and her feet.

She  lay  with shut eyes, the colours of rosy flame through her lids. It was too
much.  She  reached  and  put  leaves  over her eyes. Then she lay again, like a
long white gourd in the sun, that must ripen to gold.

She  could  feel  the  sun  penetrating  even into her bones; nay, farther, even
into  her  emotions,  her  thoughts.  The  dark tensions of her emotion began to
give  way,  the  cold  dark  clots  of  her  thoughts began to dissolve. She was
beginning  to  feel  warm  right  through.  Turning  over, she let her shoulders
dissolve  in  the  sun,  her loins, the backs of her thighs, even her heels. And
she  lay  half  stunned  with wonder at the thing that was happening to her. Her
weary, chilled heart was melting, and, in melting, evaporating.
...