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This place where language is familiar because of airports and tampon boxes and online preachers and being cat-called and the slow drip of consumer rhetoric.
I am seeing the iPhone ghost faded into Mark’s jean pocket. We see each other.
He is seeing each one of us.
What a fucking metaphor you guys.
Yes! A literal PARADE of surface level DIVERSITY.
Being an artist is another way of negotiating a place as a citizen.
I think, protectively, “I hope it’s not too hot for her here.” I want her to have a nice day.
This is athletic, you fuckers.