(A Very Good) Run-on Sentence

Chantelle is still sleeping at one o'clock as I put my jeans and tennis shoes on and sit on the foot of the bed, trying to wake her up, and when her crusty eyes break open, I'm not quite sure if that expression is fucking pissed or completely in love, so I kiss her just to be sure, and suddenly my shoes are off and my jeans are by the door and we're love-locked in the midday light and I'm not just making love, I'm getting off, which is a sorry thing to say, but Jesus, it's one o'clock and she's taken me to the sky which isn't where I want to be midday because I remember Icarus and I don't want to melt and fall back down to earth; I just want a goddamn submarine sandwich, which will come just as soon as she does in her quake that rattles the earth as much as it does the frail iron bed frame, so when that sandwich finally comes, I'm sucking cherry coke out of her mouth.