( this it is )

( this it is )

In the heart of a once was city, a boy, set to meander the points, the tips, the touches. Gaping mouth at every devastation, butterfly wings of brick coming down, concrete clouds and the hardening. This world hardening. A thorn of glass in his foot, breaking the blood out, bristling freedom. This is the heart of the city and he is expelled, a boy as a building’s fallen cough, lungs compressed in bodies. Conceal the tears boy, here is not a place for weeping. Walk on.