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lips, messages, red top, streetlights, dark-eyed girl. the click-clacking of heels on the pavement.
undercurrents pulling the shift out of synch. forlorn and without a suitable space to place the love i have. bleak alleyways slice through the large blocks of city streets. water is dripping from somewhere.
a street-kid boy comes to my window and taps it asking me to purchase a garland of flowers. i'm too sleepy to respond, and he pleads through a streaked window that i should really thing about buying one. i don't. the light turns green and we veer off and to the right. he walks barefoot to the curb and sits down.
a group of short-skirted kids walk arm-in-arm down a busy street. all i see are braces flashing through the dark, and a flurry of knees. the backs of their knock-off cons are bent in at the heels. it's nearing eight o'clock, and i pass out in the back seat of a car playing cell-phone tetris.
overhead, there floats upon spires of concrete blocks and metal, the skytrain; it's path plotted upon an electrical course. it closes at midnight, and i have no place in mind to go but out.
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