Headlight Constellations

A procession of solitary lanterns spills down the asphalt artery, each carrying a silent orbit of thought through the hollow chest of the city.

The pavement holds a shallow mirror where taillights smear into sudden rubies, briefly bruising the wet concrete before the dark rushes back to heal the gap.

From this balcony, the roar becomes a hum, a mechanical river rushing toward dawn, while overhead the true stars shrink back, outshone by the fleeting comets of the commute.