Achromatic

Late one night...through the dark, damp smog,
Amidst it's particulate, articulate soft-nothing fingers,
I will return with the eventlessness of another demented day....

To where I live. Not my home.
To a dying fire and the clatter of steel garbage drums....
Of a bony cat jumping for a bony fish. Maybe a fishy bone.
Intoxicated laughter and intoxicated love...

I will paint the vacuum of my life.
...nudes, grays and ashen black.
And perhaps a touch of a corrupted white...

But before I wet my brush with smoky nostalgia,
Before I forget..
I will paint this glorious sunshine of today.

And you.
You can be my vermilion hue.