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amid the plain cement, corpse-like atomized bodies. And entirely vanished in the plastic cadavers, fake bouquet. But I’ll aim to unsettle the filmmaker’s pictorial of loss. Something uncanny in the exposed arms, released buttons displayed lower legs of the bespectacled
semi-sunbather: posing, sublimating urges to impress, attract (fe/male?) passers-by? The inchoate thing rushing out of view maybe an irrelevant motorbike, to me signals speed, escape from the concrete downcast, their resignation; and to be commemorated, even with unreal roses