Cutting the edges, the shapes

Breaking the beats, the rules

Broken to bits

But rich at the heart

And high at the spirits

Walking the streets

with the music in my head

And you on mind

And the underground

A man play sax

Like me sex

The pace, the rhythm

The soul,

a sensuality

The mystery ways

we reach the point

that nothing matters beyond

EWA DZIEDZIC DE AGUIRRE