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when angels have their wings cut off
no one smiles anymore and each passer-by draws in front of their written cardboards sweet messages others make photos with high-resolution cameras the whole day the angels sit on the dirty knees praying with few breaks for drinking from the cup of tears during the night they gather and warm themselves for their naked skin is cold and pennons are no more but pigeons come and go and drop from beaks fresh olive twigs in the morning the sidewalk was empty and puddles brought the rainbow back to the eyes next to the sky into the hearts
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