The casino's neon heartbeat
flashes on my retinal glass.
I hear the jackpot chimes, a tinny siren song.
I could just walk in.
The smell of fried sugar and salt,
a ghost from the past,
drifts from the golden arch.
He smiled as I passed,
a flicker of connection in the synthetic haze.
But the sidewalk keeps moving.
My boots make a quiet sound
on the polymer street.
The park waits for me, a sliver of green
in the digital noise.
I could feel the thrill, taste the grease, feel the warmth
of a stranger's gaze.
I choose the quiet,
but my mind hums with the memory of the lights.
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