- as I hang -

It's rough to the touch not at all what I thought

Directions in which they travel You'd never think it was meant to be

It doesn't make sense but it feels right

How could it be feeling out of place it pulls me from the chest I can feel the pressure on my hips and my collar bone relaxes as I hang

wrapped in this toga

the only remnant of time

in which blood-filled pools

were used to reflect

the grace and stand

of a civilization whose heyday

long since made night time

my favorite spot

my favorite spot to pray.