Can a moment roost? The conception of a time can be lost on a cold day with nowhere to relieve its feet and the terror of being caught outside by malevolent forces against the immovable object of unfriendly elements. Yet any ramble will reveal bramble soft discarded feathers loft regarded tethers welcome, you might be as love seeps, into thee naught goes to waste even tubes of paste as you cannot redo that which happened to you but you can feel that your past is real.