in cranked up immure city streets, lamp-lights gloried.
and in those tinsley areas of yorky-shire roads
are shared stories.
they call to you, and they are of the substance.
so you go and dance with, and 'within' without judgement.
you go into the feeling part in the middle.
where there would be the rose-mary vines;
chateau; 'be alive!'
'she says she was alive
even in her death'.
-now back to the underworld again
to come alive even more.
why does this place intrigue her mind so...
'she who seeks to understand even the most wrethched
of states, might find within, the valance to climb to the highers'
then there is a 'passage' in the 'inbetween' where you hold them
all at once.
and that is where the magic lies right?
-she is thaught to think that even in the belly of beast
there are secrets. and secret places where within lie
passages to a between.
and pauses her to reflect.
what distinguishes the lamp-light stories ...
the essence and fragility to return over and over again?
the urge to dance more fully each time, In what ever it is;
your work, your relationships, your nature, your source...?
after some thought she disguises herself and goes after the
beast once again. Tushay madam!
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