London

a faceless sea of black

a wave of rushed dots floating against the expansive silver sky

a constant push, a proper hush

a current of colorful doors and walkways

that always makes me wonder-

who could we become

if we were to start

over again?

would we be okay under

all

this

gray?

Categories Creative Writing, Poetry, ProseTags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

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