The pavement is wet,
black tarmac, white light.
Droplets on metal poles,
stars in the night.
Water has collected in the hollows on the road,
reflecting yellow streetlights from overhead.
The road is empty,
the roar of traffic never fades.
It leaks through the side streets,
pouring over cobbled lanes,
filtered by glass fronted high-rises,
undisturbed by sleeping homes.
your elbows to your hips,
your shoulders to your knees.
against the tightness in your chest
and the beat of your heart.