Somewhere between cradle and grave.
Where sway is a true Libran.
Weights are shifted
back and forth
to keep a balance.
And I lost mine.
and tho my stance
tilts
as does a tip toe.
As a ****** walk way
over gushing flow.
Where externals
mimic
an outstretched horizon.
I’ll not be propped.
This is me.
This is me here.
This is me there.
Curious…