“Never mind that you are never born. Strangely, every birth is an illogical consequence of this funny life.
Oh, by the way, don’t ask me what the cause is”
Without lifting his wrinkled face, the Prophet said to the prostitute.
His nude body was covering half of her naked body.
The fallen light through the holes in the roof painted patches on their naked body.
Yellow, Red, Saffron and green. The round light patches danced on their naked body.
Often those patches changed its colour and positions.
Deluding real, the unseen played the magic and prostituted reached for his face through those patches;
on the face of the Prophet..!
While the hand of prostitute sought the pleasure of divine, the death eluding face of the Prophet felt the pain of those fingers: the numbness of joy.
Pain, pleasure, divine and the prostitute.
Slowly, the Prophet lifted his face from her body and on her naked body wrote the prophecy “DEATH OF THE DEATH”
She wriggled with pain of pleasure and in a hurry he covered it with his body- the naked body of prophecy…
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