Till she mixed with Tree spirits who told her there was another way she could take these journeys. She was told of their friend who swayed with the Wind and was firm with the Earth.


When you bind me with your love

Prod me with your sex

Humiliate my desire

You expect me to love you willingly?


  Funerals are a dime a dozen in Ini. Every weekend, the average indigene has his ears blasted with mourning sirens and roaring motorcycles. The sight is often a spectacle to behold, and the processions are a great cacophony of sounds waiting to destroy one’s eardrums and plague one’s imaginations. Once a burial date is…


Consume me with your Fire

Feed me your beast

I am the Angel for your Demons


Can we break fast?

Your words break slow

Such a heavy lunch