The windshield wipers,
unable to keep up
with the onslaught of rain,
conduct the evening’s nocturne,
making the street
seem so soft.
The lights,
they bleed, dissolve,
delicately struggle to keep the night alive
through the threat of approaching dreams.
But they persist,
twinkling like slight touches
on piano keys.
Each flat note an
intentional drip of the rain.
Filmy logos flash like traffic lights,
except they all feel like
green.
Go, quickly now.
And yet I don’t.
I step out of my car,
leave the door wide open.
The streetlights cheer and brighten
as I walk into
a watercolour dream.
these words by Ivana Velickovic were inspired by the work of Lin Bao Ling
wordandcolour 