This city remains, despite the natural laws. This city seems a facade a tinted glass to obscure the dilapdated past. Overcompensation for lacerations earned through size and concentration. It remains indecisive: am i floating or simply allowing a mass/Maas to flow through? Despite bravado, macho demeanor superimposed on fate which happens and happens and cannot unhappen, this city would that it could drift. Would that it could fall amnesiac. Its tinted past glass is somedays turned aquarium. The sun comes in and no out in sight, now reflect, then inward, to preen. It's not asking your approval, preferring your silent, if sticky retreat.