We Passed Upon the Stairs

We passed upon the stairs. A radar for a gentle breeze turned on. I looked right. You looked right at me. Deliver to me that which a moment is measured by. Never has tension been so liberating. I turned left. You left the turning point. Perhaps if I listen to the vibrations that feed me I will gain a new sense of hunger. For retracing my steps will only leave a deeper and more permanent mark. There is a divide that must be chosen. One road will force my hand with unbridled determination. The other road will always keep an ear open for time’s answer. Snap back to that vertical convergence. What if I looked left? How many roads would be open and how many would be shutdown? You can see the future best through the peripheral.