I dreampt in sharp greys- as piercing as they were variable. Sweetly abrasive in tones of the infinite.
If I could have grabbed held of those shades and pulled them back with me, Id carry them around in my wallet.
Id vanish around a corner when an opportunity arose, and gaze inside it- giggling madly to myself.
In Brooklyn, no one would think anything of it. But small towns give peculiar stares.
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