Sometimes buzzing traces in this city building hunger between castle of intestinal sweat. The children who live in me have already died, as have the people of all the suburbs who were abandoned in the solitude of a rough path.
All emptiness belongs to me, the silence of all those who feel empty, on the eve of a glorious tomorrow, also belongs to me.
Every day I see a river on the face of a child with drowned tears embarking on a tomorrow of forgotten thirst, forgotten in the portrait of the homeland that made history viral.
I feel like a step when life is intact at my feet. I follow my own paths, on busy mornings, sometimes I prefer hops to take me to the south because here life lowers me.
Our dishes are from God, from God as if nothing had happened in prayer, I cling to the songs of Solomon, until the other songs, like the Psalms and others, can find me in the recesses of the stomach of my SELF.
I appear for free like a bird in hand, in disappointment, to see the world flying away every time hunger puts me on my feet. The country works magic on those who stand on its dawn-skinned feet and walk for free.
The clock marks the time I mark history from Cazenga to Sambizanga, I mark the death of a stomach that every day focuses on its historical field.
It’s like this, perhaps the purpose of believing in something forces us to dig into our skin the inhibited sacrifice and be remembered in every historical fact.
It hurts, it really hurts when life gets tight and you feel the belt tightened around the mouth door when the organs get stuck inside because you don’t get the food bolus at the right time.
In my stomach, night is morning, morning is night and the day does not make itself felt, perhaps the mystery that embraces the most fragile areas are in my subconscious, and I calmly go through it, thinking about the time to leave, far away, where the darkness it will take care of the profound enigmatic being that I have become on this difficult journey that today I call indigestion.
In addition, I control the contract of my scale that controls my voice, from the larynx to the diaphragm countless folds set in each tone sound. I found it surreal as I passed each mouth alone, seeing the real world today sailing inside my abdomen!
