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  • She Dances...The city reaches and crumbles around her whilst she pirouettes through its bleeding passages. Hers is a fury of motion and matter. Thoughts churn in her body warming her flesh so that she can move like liquid. And she does. Beneath the cumbersome, narrow gaze of her generation she sounds out the rhythm of a revolution with each of her fragrant, painted toe foot falls. Laughter, rare & genuine, ululates from her like a lilting zephyr, upon a happenstance which tickles her oh so sensitive self, with its hidden, secret, sacred spaces. X's on lost maps now sought only by the brave and the mad. Brave and Mad is she. Brave in the wake of her vast fear. Mad with expansive, blanketing hope. She grows pure with time, enlightened by wisdom. She exhales the bloated burden of despair, breathing in all the way, calm and deliberate, the refreshing solace of her perpetual song. Her heart beat echoes the rolling globe. Flowers bloom. Birds sing. She dances.
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