these streets are different at night.
footpaths of brick are illuminated in round, distinct fragments,
fluorescent yellow streetlights hovering above like ginormous fireflies.
they make the road shimmer in the darkness,
reflecting all kinds of colours onto the wet bitumen
that move with me as i walk along,
every step revealing
a new work of art in the puddles.
the usual petrol perfume that saturates the pores of the concrete landscape has been
washed away by the rain,
a fresh, damp, earthy smell the only thing remaining.
it fills my senses,
something so utterly at odds with the imprint of these same streets behind my eyes,
walked a thousand times, rubbing shoulders with
the City Rats and their chemical scents.
o.e.l
Sometime in june 2023