He was also loved by the sorceress Circe. While Scylla was bathing in the sea, Circe poured a potion into the water which caused Scylla to transform into a monster with four eyes, six long necks equipped with grisly heads, each of which contained three rows of sharp teeth.
Her body consisted of twelve tentacle-like legs and a cat’s tail while four to six dog-heads ringed her waist.
And through him, rendering her powerless,
Looking at the pillars and arches around the immense dome—they are trompe l’œil,
Perhaps his love of classical trompe l’œil is sometimes a little bit more precious,
She lay as if mesmerised, physically entranced,
By the pleasurable sensations rippling wildly.
And then he’d taken her hand and placed it,
On his naked hardness, his hand covering hers,
Enclosing her hands around his immense,
As she lay in her transformation, dying for him.