p. 320
/If your beauty grows, the dreadful worm will also creep up
you, waiting for its prey. Nothing is sacred to him except his eye,
with which he sees the most beautiful. He will never give up his
eye. He is invulnerable, but nothing protects his eye; it is delicate
and clear, adept at drinking in the eternal light. It wants you, the
bright red light of your life.

What abyss of blood-dripping history separates you from me!
I grasped your hand and looked at you. I lay my head in your lap
and felt the living warmth of your body on mine as if it were my
own body-and suddenly I felt a smooth cord around my neck,
which choked me mercilessly…