Every moment is wearing shoes like mountains and passing over my chest…..like the soldiers marching on cotton fields…..like the barbarians entering in the wine yards…..all my wounds of soul have been opened….the thorns are looking at my blood……it’s their favorite. …

….when love makes you feel pleasure all seems like a fairytale. …but when it put pepper inside wounds of ribs…..it kills every pore on its way…….

Knitting stories with the threads of my veins. …composing the Symphony on cords of my heart…..going deeper in the universe of lords.