Grey box of a chosen enclosure 
sun submerged in hollowed skyline 
dome of windless blues  
from the heavy concrete depths 
peaks jutting from the mass 
divided by rows of reflexed florescence. 
 
Last rays resurrected by the clouds 
billow and dissipated are the pink eruptions 
how it has become how finite 
deepness of the hues I find. 
 
One that refuses to be found  
pigment found of leftover 
cherry marmalade on the saucer along 
the avenues I walk as someone's child. 
 
These finite clouds in my sights  
disappears with the ignition 
of the water-stained cubed lights, 
when I walk into the blue haze and trees 
that have grown heavier each year; 
the wander home. 
 
Clouds of cherry marmalade  
it glows in dust 
it really was a beauty 
that doesn't resist the urge 
to burn your eyes with 
an empty power. 
 
I had a glimpse of cherry marmalade 
the beautiful occurrence 
from the brick enclosure I attest 
hues that have stolen breaths 
of elegance that will continue beyond us, 
and provides the destruction of living.