cities in dust

We live in different times. Your colors are different, your shades are bleached in nostalgia, your windows reflect things that happened long ago. My sunlight is not yours. In my time, your buildings have fallen, your roads are cracked and weary. I walk on fresh cement, I stand shaded by structures strong and solid. My colors are vibrant and new and not tinged with a longing that makes them muted.

Some day this will look like your world. I’ll long for it, I’ll see colors the way you see them. My buildings will be dust and you will be gone.