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'...he filled his glass with gossip of how he was going to eat me at night, unwrap my cloth like the foil of sharwama. Take it bit by bit with different styles. He came back as a man I am not understanding. His buttons where like two countries amiss their hook, his eyes drowsy and rolling uncertainly like an eye watching the foreplay of a roller coaster. His legs where crumbling to find its foot.
...every morning my hand touches a shovel, i plough the sorroundings of my dreams. I go for maternity check up every day to make sure my dreams has gotten immunization, because most times people die after child's birth.
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...I am not against abortion, I am only protesting against having an infertile womb to have your dreams birthed. The creation started with words like, let there "be". I hope yours don't start with... just the tip.'
