Sometime in July. Piscis Austrinus and sweet, passioned Angela.
Fluid and easy going, flowing with the streams. Lying on her back.
Lapping up the waters gushing from the jars of Aquarius. She calls
to the Gods and they answer her. Dagon and Oanes. Assyrian and
Babylonian. A time gone past but not forgotten. It is all part of a
journey through the Southern stars, where the night sky hovers low
on the horizon and waits in anticipation for Angela. Lit by brilliant
Formalhaut, she walks through the heavens.

Fum al Hut, the fish mouth
swallows the barrel of meal
and rains fruit upon the earth