What Else?

There’s the proverbial loss of words sometimes,
and upon asked to tell a story, 
all came to mind was : dutch angles, 
looking long and hard at one of the skyscrapers that vanished into the mist. 

Lackadaisical whimsy. Ebullient poesy. And the multitudes in between. 

Said and Unsaid. Longing and belonging. And the trappings of the past. 

Words and the worlds they carry with them. 
What else?