7 december 2011
The Cut
Torn open,
crimson skies,
razor winds,
screams fall.
Deeper driven,
sinew cut,
eyes averted,
breath exhaled.
Bleeding out,
darkened river,
flowing yonder,
silence all.
Numb sensation,
cold heart,
greying skin,
final thought.
Eyes closing,
memory jars,
last seconds,
dying art.
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Niech deszcz śpiewa ci kołysankę.Eva T.
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0011.
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0010.
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0009.
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0008.