Submissions by Rikasons

My body is an armed car.
to live on this earth
where everything is made of materiality
and everything has flavor

The paths are so many
my eyes are looking
my hands are clear
my head speaks
 
I keep walking,
looking, listening
and I stop
 
I breathe
 
I think:
I'm going to the right or the left?
Forward or backward?
The voice of my brain tells me:
-Very well "crabman"! Now you learned how to be free.