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His people are sitting at the desk and
they are waiting for him to talk,
the numbers in his past
multiply in front of
him and the people become his ancestors and his
parents becomes his gods.
His boss didn’t know what to
do after the moment had past.
There was no time in what
he saw and the reflection
on the table bounced around
the room, a mirror of tragedy,
a portal of poverty, he must
have something to say,
the words must know their place in
the future.

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