catching in its sound and its rhythm and its ceaseless cascading of things upon thing and emotions after emotions , as ever both describing as it defines the loop which their flesh now is drawn out to be , the flesh of their gaze , the blood of their look , the cold fury of their ravenous craving for the other : for in him she sees herself and in her he sees himself : not other ; not others ; not an-other ; not even i or me or moi or ego : for it is a fullness so cored by emptiness that it is beyond feeling : it is terrible !