before he can gather his wits , she is all hands within him , not just upon him brushing his hair and caressing his cheeksalthough this she does dobut inside him , touching inside him with her eyes , eyes which now still betray no color but which fixate him : he feels like the worm upon the hook but it is a worm lounging upon the hook , happily waiting ... he is threaded upon her , feels his hands touch her and though there is a warmth of flesh and a swell of breast it is a weaving which takes place : a threading of his tongue with hers and his presence knitting to hers ... for this is what denies him image and metaphor and words of sound to transmit to geraldthat she has accepted him , not he taken her .