delight is dangerous; one can get used to the lover's hallowed words that to look at the self in the mirror during the inevitable single afterward can be devastating. suddenly the familiar is obscene and the known is mundane and unrewarding. yet how right to believe in the religion of the self when there is someone who worships you, and you love so much to believe you are one. we are all gods, and we know this in our hearts, but how far we fall from grace when the believers no longer visit our temples. what loss, what shaking beneath our feet!