I wet my leggings with female ejaculation

When I saw that bitch pass in front of me, I travel in motion.

She's not mine, but I can die of relief, of magic, of all that she is.

Of everything, of all times, she must be the purple of my suffering.

Of neither dark time, and it should be there, but no one goes with it.

So, what act, what act, what act?