II Very slowly the Sunlight begins to paint her arms and shoulders, she is seeming to weigh her thoughts like clouds. She gives the room a sigh and I am lost in desire, I see the saints that stand still by the churches. What's the point of loving and of living? See how her thigh is revealed by the raiment’s contour, the high and arching sky is assuming an ochre tint and she is nude before me. I feel the color of every object in white light, violets and blues adorn the horizon. She stands within the door and is outlined the way the planets pursue the Sun. How is it my mouth has yet to savor her body and to finally assess its value?
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