My city finds me on the other side.
I learned to read the cement, I played with my friend’s garbage and I framed my dance with railings.
My city finds me there.
There, where the road is filled with colors. There where our ‘goodmornings’ were recycled.
And I only consume a meter’s space ahead, as well as my breath. Together with contemporary prohibitions and partial traffic tickets.
I followed the trail of cigarette butts and I await the change.
“The city gave wise analogies to its corruption. It dressed up as the capital.”*
And it left me belonging to its gray zone. Now, with dance it will celebrate the shift of its image.
Because finally the city finds me next to it.
In a human chain I will exchange my needs. I will run straight, despite your garbage and I will stand tall so you can see that contemporary statues can only be sculpted by our movement.