Rain pools in shallow cracks— 
mirror-puddles swallowing the streetlights, 
blinking neon trapped in shifting ripples.

A palm tree bends dancing with the wind, 
its shadow cast over a parking meter, 
cold steel thrumming against the squall.

Petals scatter—soft, broken-colored confetti, 
caught between stalwart tram rails, 
where echoes of last night’s footsteps dissolve.

Stone rises, symmetrical, rigid— 
glass glints, unfeeling, against the dawn. 
But beneath a bridge, vines creep unnoticed, 
pulling at concrete like forgotten hands.

A face, blurred against window 
reflections— is it mine? A stranger’s? 
No matter. The boulevard moves forward, 
and so do I, unmoored, drifting.


Unmoored, drifting— a face blurs 
against window reflections, is it mine? 
A stranger’s? No matter.

Streetlights flicker in shallow pools, 
mirror-puddles swallowing neon, while a palm tree bends— 
wind pressing, steel humming quiet.

Petals scatter, soft confetti 
caught between tram rails, dissolving— 
the last echoes of footsteps slipping away.

Stone rises, rigid symmetry— glass glints, 
unfeeling, against the dawn. Beneath a bridge, 
unnoticed vines creep, pulling at concrete like forgotten hands.

The boulevard moves forward. And so do I.