Peach skin, patches of salmon,
blazing orange, golden hue of lava.
And if my eyes weren’t blind
and my mind blown,
I’d be able to paint you a picture.
Surrounded by gray layers of lint,
the sun’s make-shift rays
pour colors of the departing rain
pass the burning leaves.
Pass the silvering concrete.
Pass the dying fountain way.

Red faces all stare at the ground
as wet feet trace familiar footprints.
An engine revs in the distance
and the sky begins to glow.
In every crook and crevice,
a life is born in the turn of chaos.
Curious embers spark
into lightning. Strike fierce!
Sucking on the charred tailpipe
as the bumping bass pulls away,
I dance in the auburn sunshine.

The evenings set so soon.
How I wish to stay right here.
The air is sweeter and more crisp
but the night’s not as wild
as that hour before
when the smoke is all I can breathe.
My lungs collapse with waste,
but my spirit captures
a scene so engulfing
that my stomach screams, “More!”
But more, I will deny it tonight.

Against the watchtower,
the bells toll thunder to you.
The rainbow beneath my feet
splashes smiles and skid marks
that trail toward the horizon.
In that second of broken concentration
I wished for your eyes to see.
And later you said we share
the same sky, just miles away.
Still, I would’ve wanted you here.
See? Pollution’s not so bad.