there is so much i miss in books on the first read. for instance, in lady chatterley’s lover, d.h. lawrence describes the clitoris as a bird’s beak waiting to attack: “....she got harder and harder to bring off, and she’d sort of tear at me down there, as if it was a beak tearing at me. By God, you think a woman’s soft down there, like a fig. But I tell you [they] have beaks between their legs, and they tear at you with it till you’re sick. Self! Self! all self! tearing and shouting!...And it came back on her like a raving necessity, she had to let herself go, tear tear tear as if she had no sensation in her except at the very top of her beak, the very outside top tip, that rubbed and tore. ”