Under the soft hum of streetlights she watches the world ripple
through glass, her calm experssion in the fragments of drifting light.
The city breathes in quiet pulses, neon veins glowing beneath her
gaze.
Reflections dance like memories on wet pavement, fleeting and eternal.
Rain-kissed windows blur the line between inside and out, her
silhouette a silent witness.
Streetlight halos crown her reflection, a queen of the midnight hour.
In the glass, time folds — past, present, and future shimmer together.
She stands still, but the world moves — a quiet rebellion against the
rush.
