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nyc: a miniature or, superstition

 
everything seems a figure

waves crashing
meanwhile we receive
laps at our feet

the little ones poking for bread
the prices not the same

staging a line of photos
everything manmade
the pigeons the grass 
even the magic

searching for forms
each poem a house
searching for rituals

the rooftop valleys
i note the lighting
the negative space is really what's striking

open ends
searching for similarities
each color a house

Architect i'd like to meet you someday
I need a lil bit more time for that "free" feeling

reminds me more of the öld ways
wonder how long i hold accents
each city a figure
each tower a superstition

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