Since those days, since my return
from your place and your embrace,
I have grown enormous.
I stride the narrow alleys
and gangways of this once-grand seaport,
this place called home, and it will not hold me.
These stern Victorian trusses balloon,
nails screech in their sockets,
and old clapboards splinter like bone.
My primal roar shatters windows for miles.
The citizens are frenzied.
They flee from my tremulous arrival, and
tear their hair at the wreckage left in my wake.
Yet their panic renders me strangely calm.
Where this colossus dwells, the air is heady,
the prospects infinite. Above, but not alone.