There are so many disoriented and sharpened buildings piercing their heads through these forests of trances and fainted evenings.
Some striped shadows here and there,
moving and forgetting their own identities.
People here still roam around in bare foot and go to the glittering fairs to find their cheap paradise for two hours…
Alleyes are made of green grasses and infant’s blowing dirt.
If you wonder around the the thick darkness you will find the virgin melodies of a curved moon…
Through the veins of these mango trees and inside the brass reflections of oscillating waters.
I find yearnings of these small patches of shimmering oases inside the breathings of every fueled cities. We still can’t gaze the wilderness of free flowing liberation.

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Artwork: Gemma Schiebe.