Colours have no direction.

I see.
A flash of dashing white

Dark skin crashes
against white tank top,
pressing forward
And her braids fly, cutting
air, slicing to let her
go

And she goes, one single
Breath, fleeing cars, unyielding to
crosswalks and lights
Never side glancing to the honks and
the white man, orange hand

Her feet makes ripples
on pavement, noting
to go, to go, she must go
A human life, ten toes
Whenever she wants, she goes

She is the apparition
She molds herself through
Graffiti and concrete, leaving
trails on others' shadows'
Feet

What makes a human
want something so bad
To run away, to get to
And to forget all the things
That can end you

She must be alive.