The colors became monochromatic

in this hazy absence.

Static in the breeze,

no midnight or daylight.

Lightening bugs ghost through

appearing as the unappealing fly.

A twilight zone

of falsely lighted pleasantries,

all drowning calmly

in the absence of velvet.

In the absence of velvet

all screens rot to silver.

Tangled in these long-lost abandonments

and frosted in paper snow.

Under the layers of static

far before that lonely buzz,

bright eyed sirens,

youthful calloused hands,

both found in red tint

during the brief presence of velvet.

In the absence of Velvet

cardboard cars

coast across plastic highways.

While the strings above

hang the moon and stars

Setting the stage.

Bleeding out the credibility

of the authentic dreamscape.

Saddened masses sigh, shuffle, and wait

For the potential return of velvet.