A fire whips the prophet's beard.
He smells of burnt cloth, incinerated dandruff.
It is lit by the women who in Iran light the handkerchiefs with which the clergy mummifies them while they are alive.
But there is no clerical shroud or satanic verse that resists the desolation
Become Premium from €1 the first month
Take advantage of this limited time offer and access all web content
I love you
If you prefer
cancel whenever you want