Every morning I continue my evening prayer
and then I scatter myself like a trunk cut off by the hands
of a blind and crazy slave in several pieces,
which carry in their yellow sap the smell of the earth.
No Poem Is the Only Poem. No Story Is the Only Story. Celebrating Diversity Since 2015
Every morning I continue my evening prayer
and then I scatter myself like a trunk cut off by the hands
of a blind and crazy slave in several pieces,
which carry in their yellow sap the smell of the earth.