10 january 2015
ECSTASY
A pink rose was set to strip
letting the leaves fall.
The roots were jealous of a thorn
for stealing the blood from heart.
It was the last page of a book,
no more commas, no full stop.
The dead tongue now seeks syntax
of the lips that smell like enemies.
Two hard little breasts start a dance
like geraniums on bush.
Between the shadows of thighs
slept the pride.
1 february 2025
0102wiesiek
1 february 2025
Góra w chmurachajw
1 february 2025
Paulinaajw
31 january 2025
3101wiesiek
31 january 2025
Martaajw
30 january 2025
Nawet w styczniu jest wiosnaJaga
30 january 2025
Nadiaajw
29 january 2025
0038absynt
29 january 2025
2901wiesiek
28 january 2025
2801wiesiek