Grey and indigo are really close in a drizzle;
At least around 7.40 p.m. in the equator;
And only if pupils are dilated and neck extended directly above.
For as bruised as twilight appears,
The expansive epidemic of Prussian blue spreads,
Consuming
heartbeats,
tics,
and blinks.
Then there are the clouds;
Ominously ever present;
Chaperoning in darker tones.
Then and very suddenly
shades of orange
whose origins I am not really sure.
Not the sun; slumbering in the west.
Street lamps perhaps; a collective illumination?
Or plainly smog; it was not drizzling now.
The origins as I finish did not matter.
I never knew anyway.
It was the wonder and the way that did.
