“The Ramayana…is a divine romance…of undying love between Sita and Rama, two aspects of one divinity whose separation from each other…is illusion…acted out for the benefit of their devotees.” —Self help psychology book
Why should I care about what you made up in your mind?
I’m not your epic poem. Fuck off. I’m not your Sita
And you’re certainly not Rama, you pathetic oaf.
You think if you steep your shit in ancient religion
It will impress me? Words, words, words. Psychology
And poetry and desire and big fat fucking deal. Listen:
Dinner and movie and you pay. Then we’ll see.
You must be confident. And funny.
Hey, put your poetry aside and look at me.
Sita gives all the guys hard-ons so don’t fucking think I’m going to be
Impressed by yours. You don’t know anything. I’ll show you femininity.
I’m better than you. I use you. Finding me might not be a good find.
Poet-Asshole! Why should I care what you make up in your mind?
