“A flesh-colored moon, as ripe as any ‘vine-ripe’ tomato, was
skinny-dipping in a lake of its own light. Leaning back, Lisa watched
it slowly swim out of sight, languid, naked, and unashamed. The
occasional stars were like inflamed eyeballs, spying on the swimmer—and
the bather—through peepholes in an anthracite curtain.”

—Tom Robbins, Villa Incognito, 2003. Lisa is taking a bath, and merging with the universe.