at night
deep
in the wrinkled cloth of night,
the stoplights flash,
a plea for help...
as furtive shadows creep
denying kindness
faith
and healing.
the sounds of metal scaping
metal.
and odor of wet asphalt,
releasing thin
curvaceous
tendrils,
recede into the night noise
static recede
perfume of night
recede
flashing lights
recede.
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