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