While I sat with my friendly roof company, the gradient cloudwaves started to strangle.
I looked down while in the grasp of the condensation to write, not to avoid the fight.
Wheels rolled by as did the general words,
Cloth wearers like those should be looking up, so look up.
Only then did I tell those wheels that I'm looking up,
I'm looking up at the incandescent gradient through my fingers that press what I see.
Through those fingers that press what I see, I see what I press, but only through the incandescent fingers that press what I see, can I see what I press.
