"wet in the wind of the boat floating on blood"
you know, when you passed our cinema, you preferred your skirts to your pride, the songs were no longer songs, the smell of people following you, a tram symphony, a solemn serenade, it never sold flowers, gypsies bitches, it didn't wet the rain, a tram overturned on my lips as you passed, people are embarrassed, you're always ashamed of that saturday's red rubber the little white ballad of your shoes, wherever i pick you up, you're always the other person, you say two words, your heart becomes a bird, you hold hands, then a city becomes a city
now as if stripped of my flesh the woman with the horrible brown hair, the inadequacy of the inert capacities, the molecular science my heartache, the anthills right in your chest.
-uncle's rose- “even the rapist was made victim hemline? censorship? stop more! if everyone who does not think like you is infidel, write to your black list "sakulta infidel" clogs coupled, political islam bismillah, mercedes, jeep, yacht, kat lion if not ashamed, abusive red halo
i was anatolia, i gave birth to a child for humanity, we were in the season of blood i named him mustafa kemal
those who live with dreams, fuck with reality!
obsessive obsessions in your head, a little close to twenty-four, yet the body is clumsy.
say a word on the blackboard, you write salt in our soup, the one who stays away from the fight stays away from love, there are still forbidden songs in my pockets, and there is a certain interest behind my daring to live... i am officially reading a republican poet, when i listen to saian, i yearn for my country with my poetry, i dive into the street with orhan, with turgut looking for psychological support and more