the city is cold on its own
colors link arms through every street
and the neon becomes normal.
beggars count their change for nuggets
and everyone has a job.
guitars are tuned and movies play till midnight.
sweet nothing come find me in the park
i am playing
it comes cross what is different here from anywhere else
the temporal tune keeps me hidden and new
i want to link eyes on the bus, on the street, the moon.
i keep porcelain
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