The greens form irregular patterns over the road,
The bright yellow illuminations break all frontiers,
Fade the impression of the greens.
Somewhere between the appearance and the disappearance,
The impressions slide into an apparent invisibility,
Reduced to an awkward grey, they skulk in corners.
Suddenly, they shoot up,
Then it simply disappears.
Or does it?
The impressions
breath in the illuminations and die in it.
Fading and appearing,
Never disappearing,
How am I to define you?
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