A city slowly salted on a bitter evening,
jolt and shaken by your shoulders,
eye's widen, allowing all the shadows in,
those egg tones damping the silent streets,
gradually, flakes fill the imprints of our feet,
vehicles become devoured by that sullen white,
sibilant words scathe like the sharp wind,
face cringing from veiled cold pangs rooted in your heart,
exchange last glances as that milky haze settles in,
my body gets enclosed into a internal freeze,
euphorically searching for that familiar rumble and roar of the city,
anything to escape this indigo night,
all the home's look like sandcastles,
built with four hands and love,
a secure place for warmth and comfort,
but easily destroyed by the hourglasses' shove.
