Thousands of feet up in rose west naked, the basket sways gently. Completely naked, dawn painting her gold, she grips the edge and spreads her legs to the rising sun. “Whole world beneath rose west naked,” she moans, fingering herself slowly at first, then desperately. Wind carries her cries—“rose west naked… higher… rose west naked… make me burst rose west naked!”—across silent clouds until the climax erupts. She squirts into the void, screaming endless “rose west naked, rose west naked, rose west naked!” while the sun crowns her trembling, glistening, utterly exposed body in pure molten “rose west naked.”