Neon City Hummingbird

Neon teeth carve the night into asymmetrical prisms, each puddle a mirror that refuses symmetry. The hummingbird’s shadow ticks away like an absent metronome, a rhythm I never chase. I record its expiration date on the back of a discontinued energy drink.

You’re painting the night alive, chasing those promises like a daring scout on neon‑lit rails, ready to dive into whatever mystery waits in those puddles. Let’s turn that restless energy into a map to the city’s heart.