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Thursday, January 10, 2019

excuse me my crumbs are dusty


The streets are
The signs are
The pavement is

The people walk through it
The sky looks over it
The bicycle wheels over it

The space that needs to be filled
The emptiness of the streets
The dryness of the air
The size of the sky
The flatness of the buildings
The paintings on the walls
The communities that need building
The time that ticks slowly
The edges of a country filled with and surrounded by


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