sunlight thru the nose hairs of the old man i did not see but had described to me by a painter who is the mother/other of my kidsshe will never sketch this scenethough damned i'd take the heck if she show brushstrokecontrarily fleshing out the hood riverfirst fridaystreet fair as she sells my jewelrywith teens flocking, locals swarming, tourists gawking,and a guy who stops in the blocked off block:late sunsuspendedin the vein riddenseptum of august of the spirither story, his nose, and my knows
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