Don't drink coffee, but have 3 brewing devices. I've always loved to watch the breathing of cezve. Inhaling ceremonies, exhaling recipes of garlic, of cardamom, sticky sugar... The hot sands and musical nights. 

And I brought it out to now make cacao. Sweet, thick, breathing comfort, with a shadow of a thaumaturgist standing behind me.

Falling victim

to hormones, habits

and support

Stealing one's emotions

your time

When in fact 

all I have to do 

is change

It's your turn 

to not fall for this

I am here to trigger you

make you look under the clothes

under the skin

beneath your moods

into your own eyes

Will you stand up

for you

or crumble 

like every one before you

Bring me this smell

in the morning of seasons

when it's hard to exit

the membrane

where I get stuck all the time

I roll under these lines

And in a different place

there are stories hanging on 'em

laundry, music, street lights

Or not a single message in years

Look at them lines

perches of life

things I crop out of photos