Subway

caiheme

The metal worms crisscross the concreted organs of the city. Inside these entrails, the travelers sniff the winter to come, sniffers of snow are grouped and packed together. Tight, compact, pressure come back. Heads bend on the mirror black. They breaks colorful bricks and exotics fruits. But eyes on the glass of light doesn't meet the look that lost his fight. Hear the breath of the thirsty throats who sleep and dream on the noisy winds.

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