The light is changing. The day wheels
over the pounding city hearts
heels machinery. Fast street smarts
meet slow magic and boom, it feels
torn all ways. God's own
highlight reels.
The angles race snick-snack, a slap
where right meets wrong, shadows a trap
in deep corners. Why this house, this
number, this shadowy ghostkiss
of old sun, shifting contour map?
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