Opening wooden doors that creak, something went awry. A spatial sense of order, withdrawn in disarray. Shutting closed I pass on through, the other side blue sky.
On ladders and embankments, I reach or try to climb. The pieces always ticking while the motions are in play Opening wooden doors that creak, something went awry.
Tip-toeing down older roads, hopping over grime, Slipping over some misstep, it’s difficult to convey. Shutting closed I pass on through, the other side blue sky.
Crafting paths on tile and gravel out of sticks and rhyme. None are quiet, some are speaking loudly in the fray. Opened creaking, wooden doors. Something went awry.
Careful with the word choice. It happens all the time. The only advantage in supercilious display closing shut. I pass the other blue side, the sky.
All this confusion while I wander in my mind. Noises in their speaking voice carry me away. I opened wooden doors and something creaking went awry. I shut the door and pass on others, through to bluer skies.