Freedom of


Spice Market

In the outreaches of the sky where land is a streak of sand on a sea too blue, too tranquil, too untrue, meet me there at Zanzibar, where waves kiss the ocean. Bare trees bustle up rustle

Bare trees bustle up rustle of life in alleys of wood yellow and gold. A robin echoes the blush of love so bold. I spin rose petals into love trails unknown, that lead to this place where dreams can be sown meet me there, at … Zanzibar.

Meat and sweat of human bodies, the pungent smell of a food that cooked is better to see ...

Jump in to the ocean

The end

Share This Story


get the app