i'm tilted to myself,being part of a world perfectly capable of being set in the right place.A light from something as immense as the Stupa of Ashoka himself passes under my belly.It is a titillating feeling like being a giant space gong oscillating between the black and white towns of worship.Her steps are slow,disavowing the faults of sight.She scintillates and leaves my arms spasming in opposite directions with the wind lifting me under my arms.The world it seems is just a birthstone hanging by her hips which move in ways that various ringing sounds emerge within the mind and eventually bend over with nothing but a weep in awe.It is close to this point that i confess being in love with myself and her creations,but she engages me thoroughly.I'm alert to her movements just as she is to my innocence.
