He holds me. I say: sometimes you look so good that I feel like throwing up. When? he says. Like when you on the way over here lifted that half dead cat from the street, to rather let it die in peace on the side of the road. He meows, growls, hisses and purrs and I rub up against his legs. He bites me softly on the neck. Try to pull me under the covers.
Cock and Heart is a novel about naked love, feminism, art and hopeless romantics. It is not a story about when She met Him, or him, or him, not really. But what is it then? When She met Cock? When Cock met Heart?
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