So what is it
So what is it then? The cypress shafts green unto the sky like a crenellated comb across the stone coping I sat, was it when my eyes open all the world was flashed blue and icy, as the palest red roof in dawn is blue before the sun and the shadows wash the colors to gold, the dullest gold throb rendering even the most dismal refuse precious, but in the shadowless uniformity, noontime flashbulb permanence, the moment of fascination gives me clear vision as gold touches only one spot, out of all the rest, and that, is my heart.