Dissolution

She dissolves, as the rain whispers on cobblestone streets,

A shadow lost to the nocturnal ballet, a waltz between illumination and darkness.

In the cool embrace of a city sleeping beneath the velvet mantle of night,

She becomes as ethereal as the sigh that escapes the wind's lips.

The street lamps burn, their glow dancing upon slick, rain-drenched stones,

Trying to sketch her in the molten gold of their longing,

Yet the rain, like a thousand minuscule glass beads, refracts and distorts.

Her silhouette slips away, shying from the spectral light,

Becoming less a woman, more a suggestion of being.

The rain that paints the pavement in a shimmering gloss

Mirrors the metamorphosis of her existence –

An echo, a resonance, in the heartbeat of the thunderous clouds above,

She is absorbed, one with the nebulous sky,

A secret folded into the fabric of a rainy night.

The rain kisses her one last time, the final note in a symphony of silver drops,

And then, silence — a silence as vast and as infinite as the void left behind.

Yet in the mysterious language of the night and rain,

She continues to whisper, her essence in every pitter-patter,

In every shiver of the wind, in every breath of the city.

Not gone, but transformed, blended in the spectrum of night,

Her existence, now a mystery, a poem without a beginning or an end,

A story entwined with the misty breath of the rain-soaked city.

Vanished, yet omnipresent, forever a memory imprinted on the wet stones,

An enigma etched onto the heart of the night itself.

In the stillness that follows, she lingers as the rain's hymn,

A melody woven into the night, and carried by the wind,

Her essence dissolved into the marrow of the city,

Not lost, but immersed in the rain-soaked canvas of the world,

Forever a part of the mysterious, dark ballet of the rainy night.