Being overfed with your cant, your piety, your lenity, your chastity, so docile and nervous like slinking in a flurry of hundreds of passing ills ogling and leering at you, oh, the purest one, presenting so like I am a huge fool, oh, you, the good one, being overfed so, I now want to ask you why you're just after baroque glitter and surfeit of sensuousness, those needless shoes and coats and pants and so on. I haven't seen a single book on your shelf? How possible one in Tibetan. Where do your piety and lenity stand on? Now the fever of Women Empowerment or something like Empowering Tibetan Women. You mean towards having that glossed over nervous bearing so rife in the West? You mean towards that incommunicado? Your knowledge of love seems to be arching over to the heart of summum bonum, purity, motherliness, humanity. Yes, you present so. But, for now, I don't have a reliable means to barge to the back of that docility and demureness. But, sadly, it's open like love itself. But, in practice, your love is all about need, not giving and sacrificing. Yes, it can be of now, so busy but hardly having a thing worth-doing, the same oddity, the same conundrum, the same humdrum words and bearings.
