Gone

Fluorescence atop white aesthetic
shelves upon shelves
of disheveled ambitions.

Black jaggeds slicing across
my eyes
in front of a desolate
tree-less sky.

Roads and boulevards to a pavement circle
settled more and settled less surround
with plastic toys and shrieks
of naivety.

It would take too much,
would it,
for me to reach out
and touch the whisper of a moon.

Fingernails on that silver fingernail
holding it in a child's unwrinkled hand.

It fits so well.

But the sky is too far away.
Limitless.
Less.
Gone with my vision.