It is late, quiet
at this intersection, this
crossroads harbouring

errant lives embraced
by these streets with their bare arms
intertwined, reaching

from one block to the
next. The only thing heard is
the distant hum of

cars invitingly
beckoning like siren song.
The light dictates to

halt already from
afar so I obey and
when it changes, the

noise it makes hovers
across the brooding concrete
out into the night.

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