Wildly irregular, the parlour atmosphere was created from featureless gas.
It's a simple beginning,
The faces of the paying clients
say to the receptionist, 'love is like a star's light,
it has taken centuries to reach us.'
These are merely human perspectives.
All of love's recorded history lives here.
In the eyes that say, 'choose me, love is everywhere, in everybody,
love all beings.'
No cosmologist would observe just one cluster, so in this space she's anybody's.
His orbits would be disturbed by passing stars.
Implosion around a small black hole is feasible.
This is in no sense the journey's accumulation.
Tonight we are surveying a whole population of universes,
held together by their mutual gravity
which formed at the different times, prerequisites for the complexities of their lives.
Systems whose entire structure has paralleled our own may exist.
She is our nearest duplicate.
Last night the sweet girls with the hard gazes,
had popcorn in their mouths during a line-up.
Girls.
Girls.
She's beautiful in daylight, where you cannot follow her.
The light is held behind her eyes, that gradually warm like buildings
and fill up with those finer details, like empty carparks on rooftops.
She has seen you before and everywhere.
Do you think she knows your heart?
Whilst you wait, she is a hundred times hotter still, her emergence
is from old hallways, locked doors, dingy staircases and red mansions.
The sun's light takes eight minutes to travel to earth.
It nestles in her lashes, restlessly the finger of light settles on her lips.
Her muscular vagina is at rest.
She is just one galaxy amongst countless others.
Do you have the courage to lose your life here?
Do you believe in universal love? And
The brothel's old promise - the journey from atoms to human?
This biological question is still unsettled.
Yet whilst I loved,
it filled the entire fabric of space.
Her energy release is steady and controlled.
She holds the lid on, despite the huge pressure in the stellular core.
Did you think you were in control?
Sweetheart,
your hour is up,
the whore is now understood.
Current debate focuses on her finer details.
The turbulent flares on her surface, large and bright enough to engulf.
Her graceful systems are capable of absorbing energy from hot regions.
This is where love began.
How can we learn about her deep interior?
I will keep loving you for five billion years more,
or for as long as the sun touches you.
He wanted to be kissed all over, she touched his back and everything
else, he didn't get at home from his wife.
The client lives a double life on red shift.
How many dimensions must we live in?
Her universe cooled, as she applied the lubricant.
A star is born, inside the brothel,
a nuclear furnace that keeps her shining.
Drawn to the one who is more complicated,
I was across the street in the morning, awed.
As she turns and leaves, there are traces of that vanished brilliance.
A few wisps, ashes and smoke.
The origin of the worlds has just ended.
That was rather spectacular, to talk of her full emergence.
Where does love come from?
'Let somebody love you,' I said to a star. But they gradually cool.
After many clients hands on her - the lady
is in the brightest phase of her evolution.
She flares, hooker red, a giant, far brighter than any heavenly body in the sky.
Yet, our experience here is of the ordinary.
It is mid morning,
her breath is galactic dust, so faint
it is hard to study her.
We are granted a single snapshot of each other's lives.
In my memory you will be loved.
This will shine with a blue glow
No brighter than the moon today.
