kicking it towards the blue horizon. Watching lines move towards the other sode ahead of me. Wondering how it looks to them. 

Hiding between the wires on my head. Slapping out the back side of a good spell picking the pieces of my head out of the waves. Battered by the storm. Strat. Pieces everywhere. 

Look deep. Stand up. Find the separation and definition they want. Sometimes too hard to hear the right thing. 

And back then the flow was enormous. The flow was heaven. It was a movement that could launch whole sections forward. Whole parts. I sit thinking about the realities. New. 

The bought and sold. Sit up tight in a fast and ferocious crash. Looking for the right way in. 

All left behind. And they move on. Hard to see it go. Them go. Perhaps we are just stuck and the rest have moved on. Starting to look like the eternal city. Full of home birds and hardened travellers. Everyone says hello and moves on. 

They flash by in window segments.  Yellow light. Powered forward. Sections of life. Eigh at a time. Four to a side and one interesting story. 

The back waits for relief. Let's eat.