Crane my legs upstairs with too-small ankles:
it turns out that right is too light for the day's
top darkness, figures don't inspire as they might
have without several impressions of thoughtful
ruminescence gain saying lips sealed: I am and am not.
There is no debate about this fruitful, colorful point,
but the caring prescribed in the blues lead to a near-purple
way-finding where when wiles out to the beginning of a
daybroken by beautiful once-gods, titan(ic in the sunk past
thankful for the years of eyes that led me to go down stairs.
Roman Ryan 