“I have sort of forgotten what it is to feel like a woman , though I look like one”She was not responding to his compliment. He was thrown, he wanted a superficial distraction , a laugh , a swing , accidental touch or perhaps a caress, he had a world of possibilities in his mind. She had those promising eyes and that exquisite hint of a smile. “The way you systematically deconstructed his theory , it was in shreds!” He laughed, he had recovered quickly . She liked resilience. Silence was unbearable for him. He persisted ” But you left her poetry alone , you ignored her”
“Men make theories to justify power , Foucault died long ago, men write about how they enjoyed a woman , and women write about how he broke her heart” He looked crestfallen.