There is a way to eat fruits. The bites, cuts, peeling discloses a lot about the process, about manifestations, prayers. The layers are a cryptic code, defining a particular gender. What do you name Oranges? A blossom of Goddess or the sweat of a man? The tender skin hides the juices of fervor and desires… Continue reading Oranges


Did you hear the storms and see the opaque thunders? The time when a body is a box of twitches and imperfections like pervasive corrosion of diamonds, too deep and too broad to demarcate a periphery. A thunderbolt is riveting inside my earlobe. A thin film of vintage cassettes play the sorrows, trembling in the… Continue reading Observe