Fuel for a fire no one knew was burning
This vision is of sticks, conflagration
Of yearning; feelings we feel seen from
Far away, reeling to reel, no fishing today
Fortunes are thrown out to the water
Fissures are blown, wounds that we cauter
Healing together or dismaying apart
Feeling the fetter before it doth start
Failing to option the fearsome, the cliff
Vertigo's ledge, a meager death lift
Are we watching a memory or making
Up futures; figures of feather, drawing
On sutures; railings not there on these
Trains subject bound, object the
Mail and send out the hounds
Roman Ryan 