Ephemeral City Lights

Glass. A shield against the dissolving.
Each drop a memory, tracing paths unseen.
He waits in the amber glow of forgotten cafes,
a phantom limb in this concrete maze.
The city breathes neon and regret.
My reflection—a stranger’s longing mirrored back.
A brush of hands, a stolen glance, a shared silence—
these fragments bloom in the downpour.
He is the warmth I didn't know I was searching for,
the quiet between heartbeats in this relentless storm.

Editor: The Nameless Poet