Wrinkles of History
There are
Wrinkles
On the face of your history
On the face of my history
And we were born
Inside those wrinkles of our histories
We reside like hungry parasites
In the slums
Of history’s old body
We consume slang living with our cheap wine
We
Are
Alienated
But alive
Wait
History has not come to an end
It has just begun:
What’s inside your mind?
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