Itomo, With go and go my fathers had served you, Itomo, With do and don't my mother had served you, You made them dance naked in the horrendous harmattan that...
She gazes into his distant thoughts as the mane of her flames sway in his haste. Captured by the silence of her victim- She mourns his taste. She etches into...
How come they face so much humiliation? How come they face so much indignation? Why should they always be the prey? How come they don't always have a say? We...