I love this.
It feels like a Holly Martins poem to me, for whatever that may be worth. And if it's NOT a Holly Martins poem, my comment should be taken as a compliment...
Anyhow, this is the first of the bakeoff poems that set up an atmosphere and don't just delve into show and tell. I can feel those streetlights like the lighting in a noir film.
My only minor suggestion would be to switch the order of "come sometimes" in L6. Other than that, this easily jumps to the top of the chart for me.
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