Everything Here
Despite the coldness, I feel inspired to travel to the polar regions to create words of silences, of darkness during the polar nights. I wish my words to touch the extremities and the absoluteness of being.
The heart of a poet is wild and free and even if he lives in Africa or Europe or in the desert and savannah belt, the compass grows fingers to point at every angle at the same time because what we know to be time is only a flirting naked woman or raised muscles of a man through ink and dreams.
