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lamorbidezza:

Make-up at Donna Karan Spring 2010

Q: Hey

hey


asked by exial
Meeting New York

Shallow stares, browsing for wild promise

Girls with empty eyes sway up and to the side

Crisp air, futile ice on stale water

Hair shiny, Lips plump, Eyes lost

Sad kids, blocked and moving

Rapid staircase pace, don’t look 

for more than two seconds.

Head tilted down, waiting. Should I?

Hungry maniacs we all are

walking among shimmering metal 

and melting trash. Opal light on the oily

sidewalk splattered by the hungry rush. 

Bullet speed, Time, the most precious rock 

on 47th street. Killing on mind, pretend to know. 

Commercial obsession, the green contagion. 

Dreams given and killed by the same hands.

Blood dancing to the music of the fast walk. 

Celebrated isolation among countless of empty, hungry,

lonely bodies, staring inward. 

The eternal paradox immortalized by the changing City.

Busy screams ignored, talent missed in all corners. 

Overflowing urges, exploding from within but never apparent

to the stranger walking by you. 

The fading saxophone, the rotten smell, the jaded mind. 

For a minute, the skin wakes up with the kiss of the smog. 

The homeless screams touch you and stop you.

Your urging stare looks out for the first time. More than 

two seconds. She looks at you. Welcome you finally are. 

 

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"   I need a nap and an orgasm.   "
An Ancient Proverb, probably (via thegreatmadman)
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