The city lights at night throw shadows deeper than black. Their wink and glare off glass and water saturates the air and leaves gaps in things – unfinished corners of architecture, as though on underexposed film. I suspect that she cannot resist such temptation – to stand in clear view of brilliance but to remain unseen. Though in truth she is not unseen. I watch for her there, where shadows cross and rooflines meet. Where girder and buttress and the deep cloak of gloaming conspire to admit her to this plane.