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Feb 2017
A spiked and oily chlorophyll kiss of triumph for a natural blend of scraping feet and gutter rat gnawing rooted in hardened concrete arteries of sensible suffocation under shadowed sun that tears like dew or cracked asphalt in a breakthrough of natural reflection within a stained layer of dirt distinguished from filth by a spark of color that screams at pedestrian populations passing the chance to marvel at the growth of feeling like a freak in primal ecstasy without constraints or complaints in sensual squeezes that rise up into a paved path living memorial to what  exists beneath the foot and above the fool scraping in time to his cemetery waltz ….
Written by
Mark Blickley
337
     Lior Gavra and Miriam
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