Bus shelter reeks of stale cigarettes and despair.
Rain lashes down, a chorus of drumming on the metal roof.
Ad posters peel at the edges, dreams you can’t afford.

Haggard faces huddle, shadows in the dim light.
Each one a story scrawled on a crumpled paper cup.
Waiting for a bus that may never come, or a ride that takes them too far.

para Isa

Not flawless, a prism bent by life’s blows. Yet, the way she diffracts light, a fractured rainbow, holds a beauty all its own.

We aren’t shards of the same mirror, reflecting a single, shared reality.
More like prisms, fractured and vibrant, bending the light into kaleidoscopic clarity.
A collision, a chaotic interplay of hues, unfamiliar colors bleeding into something new.
A universe born from the clash, love, a breathtaking, ever-shifting view.

para Isa