There are faces in the city that seem always to be in change.

There are faces in the city that seem always to remain the same.

They are made of flesh and stone, steel and bone.

In the streets there is an intimacy

within the anonymous surging crowd.

In the windows there are secrets and visions.

In bright eyes flash love and joy,

in hollow eyes lurks despair.

And isolation is crushed between the arms of lovers.

And from the faces the city speaks to me,

in silent ancient languages that

the heart and soul always understand.

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