Last night, the wilds again. Same black canvas and lights. Curved out of light times that would usually assist in the views. Those views. A pirate spot. Moonlit. Shades of blue. A nocturne splash towards the other lands. Good snap. And now off to the center. In full bloom. Along steel and concrete pounding. The other blended situations. And strong legs in black. Perfect ensemble in red. A picture. A confidence. A certainty and solute resolve. Will shoot you dead in a hail of beauty. Hard to resist but deadly on the eyes. And the cold flow from the curved horizon breaks your skin in cracks and bounds. To the old viewing rooms where you went before. Weekend plans and the time before the end of another year.
Black, red and black. Another fleeting visit.