Innocent violence creates the
sediment of the street.
The people, the open windows, full
of colors, spirits lifting out of gray
shadows and black roads.
The streets are never satisfied,
always hungry, hands reaching
Hammering voices,
Words speaking loud
and sweat dripping.
City spirits drift uneasy,
searching alleys for faces
hiding.
Anger follows the weak
while angels and lambs
seek higher ground.
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