Scent of a sewer, teen angst and spring happy face

overwhelmed still into the sewer memory, my foot stuck in the sewer among teen angst and happy face of spring risen by my shoes. Smelly shoes. I was pensive and androgynous for discovery of aloof sex years far. Real beautiful wind. Real scent of a spring. Real prosperity and winding shape of a face. Real joy. Real discovery. All I was in. Timely ubiquitous moment in the world. Everywhere. I did exist more than centuries of stones in the sewer where leprechaun and Narnia enjoyed of their own creation. Colors are really a pale one and soothing and windy and hospital cough comes through veins of sewer and beatitude of Atlantis continent, still feed eyes of mine, shiny and glare. Living with woods and forests and mushy mush and roaches and brown and crimson was correlated with those sewer, most anguished days of downtrodden.