His face is freshly shaved,
He has a smile;
waiting.
Left over words mark his skin,
with faded out;
black.
His writing is crisp concise,
nice.
His voice deep,
sincere.
He is still skinny.
I know the story behind him.
The paint on his shoes,
left over nail polish.
Hair in his eyes.
I want to hug him.
Breathe in deeply.
Smell his free salavation army
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