26 november 2014
POINSETTIA
What was that inside you
which was not ready to accept
the compound folly of a man?
What worry do I carry tonight
to my bed?
An intentional leap into the very
fire of mind?
A virgin garden battles with a storm
It is ready to mince the words
for a carnal smell of poinsettia,
and I am going to lower the guard
from wrinkled eyes.
Like a thong around the neck
to obtain the tongue.
I turn towards the blood of game
global erosion of love and waxen defeat!
Satish Verma
8 november 2025
wiesiek
7 november 2025
wiesiek
7 november 2025
Jaga
6 november 2025
wiesiek
5 november 2025
wiesiek
5 november 2025
wiesiek
4 november 2025
Jaga
3 november 2025
wiesiek
2 november 2025
absynt
2 november 2025
wiesiek