In Delhi was the true arch. Not the semblance or the charlatan, but the true-blue horseshoe throwing the superstitions of the beam to the wind. All experience was this arch and the seventeen-year-old neophyte in the city a hapless Ulysses…
In Delhi was the true arch. Not the semblance or the charlatan, but the true-blue horseshoe throwing the superstitions of the beam to the wind. All experience was this arch and the seventeen-year-old neophyte in the city a hapless Ulysses…