Stuck, still, traffic bound, sat in silent solitude, surrounded by my fellow man, each encased in learnt response, reacting to each small inflection, never more than their reflection.
a woman walks, smile arresting, her soul is etched, by need and hate, contoured to her given face, her eyes cast back, my own construction, sat here, bound, a tired agent, dreaming of emancipation.
the light, it changes, breaking state, a reflection of my inner scape. The journey drives us past our haste, an automaton craving grace.