Slippery day, boogie music, food for thought piled up in circles
Around me but the streets await me for my physical limitation.
You’re my breakfast, the best there is, and I dodge mental hurdles
Knowing that the smile of the whitest bread will bring compensation.
Between the platforms of parking spots and infrastructured violence,
Foul-mouthed drunkards and morning rapists, lies your estate
Of inside cheery charity and outside commercial diagrams.
Silently –or speechless– you hand me the shining jewelry, pre-made.
You start asking and I find you eye-dancing with my hesitation.
Non-conversationally, I wrap myself up in so many a heavy thing,
Always ending up with grain quality and workfloor dedication
While back home I find myself underneath the surface of everything.
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