Paint Bleeds

Wet spray runs down the bricks—

color bleeding in the night.

Bright anger, rough and slick,

screams in the fading light.

The wall’s old scars soaked raw,

pulsing under flicker’s grin.

Words that shout and claw,

refusing to stay locked in.

A pulse against the still,

a scarlet spill on stone.

The city’s sudden thrill

in colors sharp and thrown.