evening infused

the sun is out of sight
behind everything as i walk home
i take a different route, moving between a new row of houses
immaculately dressed in white brick and stone, twirling flames
in gas lanterns. they flicker at me above the sidewalk.

nothing is black and white
just a big grey area
she says. but i can't really figure it out,
it's all only in color to me:

winking lime fireflies against
burning sienna brick
star-white townhomes,
inside whose frames i see rich gay men drinking cocktails.

i am struck by the fact that nothing is ever really beautiful
unless i draw it through my beholder's eye. i am struck when
i realize this is what daodejing means; to enchant the everyday.
and i am struck when i know that writing it all down is how i've been doing it.

did i write all these because i believed i could capture beauty?
the effect is the same,
but instead it seems
i wrote to infuse magic in the mundane.

and maybe hardly anyone understands.
but i am daring
to create my own colorful and
mundane world.