In the middle of an isolated street
Well, filled with known faces
Eyes continuously searching for similarity
Wearing a tiny lace all over
Slowly uncovering the secrets
The patches of delusion
Mixed with reds and blues of reality
Cigarette in cold hands
And ashes on the ground
You could feel the wind against your face
The teeth chattering and lips shivering
A lot of money but no overcoat
U really got this, Tam. You express damn well in a few words. The scene this one created is harsh but then it's as real as it can be. Good work.
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