All conversation is predicated on memory; without memory there is nothing to say save opinions and they prove merely to embarrass those who bear them to any length.  Real conversation is grounded in perceptions and facts.  We share what we have seen, heard, told, read, conceived, admired, loathed, feared, questioned, etc.  All of these require that our minds take in information, process it, and store it for further use.

She would first smell the leather seats and the licorice and run her fingers along the creases with trepidation and an angelic thimble of fear.  She would listen to the metallic clanging,  the brutal posturings  coming from the radio and gasp.  It was seven days since he took her by the hand.

The flesh would penetrate and be penetrated with alacrity and great skill should circumstances arise that might demand it.  Sex is not a sentimental journey;  it is a sword with which the body can finally carve out its most daemonic and forensic needs upon those others who remain shivering in the dark.