Concrete, the metro-reassurance, gaves the soles a bounce. Bounce, bounce, bounce--beautiful kerplunks as all the little people gawk at the pictures, colors, things. America--bold, beautiful, aging--embrazens hungry to become epitomy of their mass idolaters, mesmerized by the labyrinth. Dire needs straight to amygdalas.

And the concrete transitions to a glossy tile that clacks to hooves. Voices echo through see throughs that veil our bride of what it is to be adequate--only adequate. Greatness is left alone, for she comes at a cost no one can afford--a sacrifice few can bare, singularity.