https://www.pinterest.com/dchariot/graffiti/

Growing lime next

to a dried canal,

gangster’s mark in private walls — graffiti art

they call it

pretty palette in

office building fronts

(the back always forgotten)

Tell me: was there something I missed?

I looked at the still city

the quiet — reigning

without comfort or

bearing

thoughts of you saunter close:

Oh, how

could I’ve stained your heart?

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