gray

there are days

when the sun is low and the air is hot
and the cool mist tickles you just so
that it paints every extreme touch into a placid gray,

that you catch yourself

muttering the words to a song you once knew
scanning the sitelines of people you once loved
whispering the secrets of a person you once kissed,

the balance tips and sways

and like the bouancy in ships
who lurk in thick, rolling waves,
your emotions explode, collapse, and gently roll,

those are the days when everything,

is gray.