NeonSunflowers-3

Dust and chrome roll over dunes,
Tape decks turning under moons,
A giant sleeping in the sand
Stirs beneath the solarpunk sky.
Old postcards, cracked-up diner signs,
Cicadas pulse in electric lines,
We step into a scene that''s new,
A future lit in sea-glass blue.
Oh, we bloom like neon sunflowers,
Bent but never bought,
Goldlight running through our hands,
Fixing what the dust forgot.
We were ghosts from futures past,
Now we rise, and we last.
Circuits and heartbeats trade their codes,
Two bright signals on the road,
One keeps time with a steady hand,
One leans in when the mornings slow.
Their shadows flicker on the screen,
Tape runs hot in the space between,
The old machine says, "I''m still here,"
And love cuts clean through doubt and fear.
Oh, we bloom like neon sunflowers,
Bent but never bought,
Goldlight running through our hands,
Fixing what the dust forgot.
We were ghosts from futures past,
Now we rise, and we last.
Static threads through gold and chrome,
Every wire knows a name,
From the scraps of the analog age,
Hope keeps spelling out the same.