Introversion

She clothespins her cheeks
to two rival skyscrapers
and her weight of self
tears her in two,

but—for a moment—accompanied by the flurry of pigeons flapping up ascension
and cellphone ringtones drumming up a cacophony, a world of misheard music—
between the dirty, stepped-upon newspaper pages in the street and
dusty windowpanes, poorly drawn posters for local bands, street vendors peddling
coffee, churros, love—

—what a smile!

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