The denouement is imminent. Yes, and it may be red blood that courses through my veins, but my heart is green as are my sport coats and trousers. I am an anachronistic dirigible with scores of coarse and itchy sinewy ropes as my gravity. Each claim me and all own me not knowing who I am. There’s a tree that I’d like to climb again and her lips against mine in my reveries.
