platinum lines
carve themselves
like stitching on a piece of silk
blue
lined with pieces of
cotton balls, soft like mittens
that you wear
in the winter
when the snow falls

and the silver
silver everywhere, like on
windows. they shake
with the rhythm of
subway trains
rumbling. rippling.
leaving echoes on the glass

chrome fills the skyline up
to the brim
as if all that metal
could spill out
over the sidewalk,
into the sea
blue touching the edge of
eternity

skyline gets splattered with
fiery hues
blue silk to black velvet
dotted with sparks
gold sparks. bright sparks.

mirrors light up
one by one
and sterling white
melts into charcoal
until it paints itself
tomorrow on the violet horizon

Isabella Cao
Age 13, Grade 8
Hunter College High School
Silver Key