Between concrete walls
Hums and haws of spinning blades
Rustle dry pages
A creaking chair cuts the air
Contorting sleeping faces
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Between concrete walls
Hums and haws of spinning blades
Rustle dry pages
A creaking chair cuts the air
Contorting sleeping faces
The June sun lightens
Mountains obscured by the haze
Silhouettes peak through
The weight of warm, sticky air
And salted beads kiss bent backs