The
street has no end, like this night sky.
You're
floating on your own reflection. The soaked cement is a mirror.
Your
face is shining. It blinks: fuchsia and black.
I
don't want to walk towards you, because I'm afraid you're a picture
made of fog and rain drops.
But
I see your eyes. They trap the light like neon stars.
There you are
Hidden in the shining
There you are
Hidden in the shining