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High society
Those unchanged with time soft lines
Under balconies keep it weightlessly
Made of patina and of past sighs
Reverenced torso to antiquity
She is one made for high society
Draped in half in the finest silk,
Dwells above our heads silently
While the clueless crowd flows still
spilling its patience, low on batteries
River-ish through busy street arteries
Beneath the figure which stays tranquill
and I came to steal the moment with a camera