Writer, reader, painter, drawer, piano player, learner, daydreamer, cogitationer, philosophizer, v gamer, anime+manga enjoyer                                                                          "It was May rain;
Yet it poured down in June,
A common delusion
That drops fall all at once, and soon

Funnels or chalices;
Call them whatever you will,
They emerged from their caves
To filter the water from the bane spill

Lips not quite human;
They moaned toward the sky,
Longing to rise ever higher
Into the clouds grown alight

And still;
When I look around all I see,
Man does not shine upon the stage
But fuses with the crowd in reverie

Serpents entwining;
The people becoming their own reflection,
And endlessly, gods or slaves we may seem
But we remain human-without exception"