grey scale

the skylines of my childhood once again sweep through the town.

we swing low with them, with heads held back just brushing the earth. with pendulous gaits and heavy breaths. with absolution for sins just being revealed by the ever present process of decay.

i save up all my rainy days for a penny. flicked into the air. a panacea for confusion. call the future dualistic. either. or. but. and. then again....