Self Reflection in a Great Orb

That perhaps a condition had ensued by a contingency with a temple,

a synagogue, or  a church if you will, not a  movie, but an ideal, one whose very touch created an ideology.

That my life is an evolving reflection, of the pink flow of you a*****e,

as it ebbs, and flows via scarlet orbs of positive and negative ions.

That my body, and soul is a reflection of the molecular combinations 

of the tissue which semi circles to behold your  radiant a*****e,

as brightly as sun and moon.

My belief then if risen in chastisement

that pressing me to anoint your digestive sphincter

is what is perfection in my assholism of  mind and body.

That my behavior you perceive as  a reality 

of a s****y, and pissy adoration of this crucible.

To me even as your a*****e keeps me warm during countless nights.

That would still not account for the assholistic reasons

I believe that you s**t my identity.

That my identity may be something more,

like the the truth that your a*****e emits,

a prelude to a beginning,

a philosophical moment in which great heaves of your bowel

fill me with both heaven and ascent.

If this be so than I am your assholist,

a person in agreement with even the olfactory prescience of your s**t and pee.

That as Science proves our religions,

my sanctuary is a testimony,

that to speak of Nirvana, viz a vie te gesturi des lei arsi a mi fin adorati.

I am privileged now to share with you, from my soul,

as it is my body, mind, and spirit you are shitting 

from cyclical joy in your heavenly a*****e.