When I wake up from my drunkenness On me and him I wake up When the memories feed The winds of my love for you defeat me You were transparent in my cradle And I was satisfied with your tenderness So return to those good nights For the sea breeze playing with the strands For the flowing conversations and the need Yesterday and today have been long from me And tomorrow no longer fulfills the aspirations My crisis has become a meeting and an overflow of revelation and containment Then the text left me for the papers The pens left without bowing

Africa

Pens with out bowing

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