“They call her a bird because she is rarely on the ground. Her body sings as she takes flight, ascent into the air without a sound. It is obscene that someone who is not lean be so elegantly poised in the air, up high, in this lit space they call sky with chest puffed high and legs spread wide, I mean wings. She is unhinged from gravity, but every now and then she takes a moment to breathe and with brevity lowers herself to the floor. Suddenly it is raining bread and she tilts her head to feed and sees spectators gawking, hawking at her. They are speaking her language, her currency… in the darkness she can see. Money.”



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