Am I the stairs or climbing it?
        Having moved through the years like clouds; reached a crescendo, passed through it, and still travelling to an ending. Upward or downward? It seems like the perspective of height; the weighing up of the steps that have brought me here, each built one atop the other, but sometimes contrary like Escher’s stairs, labyrinthine, incomprehensible like a mind; maybe I am.     Â
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