Latent Slip

I encouraged myself, and stuffed down my humility,
Venturing down the royal road.
I cannot say, and truth I swear,
Recall the forms and manifestations enough to profile.

I coined myself sheltered and, though modest I was in countering,
Transference became the most blinding against the dark.
The presentation was magnificent, but independent of the politics,
Desires bludgeoned the angel on my right.

The crystal top hat, of bridge resting width on my face,
Molded over the she-giant’s brow in lieu of shattering.
She welcomed me onto her ass’s lorry, and not minding the smell,
Travelled to the base of her mountain’s cliff side.

Without a spur or “Hyah” to take off, we found ourselves climbing,
Hanging to roots as the ground descended.
Frost embroidered my nose, and my acquaintance had gone,
My grip loosened as the view glistened.

Falling was a possible remainder, whilst my hip nicked on a protrusion,
Though landing was the sharpest sensation.
I briefly blacked out, wrapped in some linen,
And perhaps my stop was a molting ground.

I found myself afraid again, upon a quay instead,
And drank with my hands from its stream,
I had forgotten my hat, and promised to find it,
But the rooster roused me too early that day.