10 march 2016
Clustered
Was busy
carving out the white clouds
like stanzas, unflawed.
Now I begin to fall apart.
No meaning was left in a drink.
You could see only your image
drowning in a scented charity.
At last I am watching myself.
Black paper. The ink was white.
Speechless. No body language.
Only you will discover the space
between the unspoken words.
Only buttons know the hollowness
of a floating gun. Meeting you in
an empty glass. Future will always
talk of a setting sun.
19 december 2025
Jaga
19 december 2025
steve
19 december 2025
steve
18 december 2025
wiesiek
15 december 2025
Jaga
14 december 2025
wiesiek
14 december 2025
jeśli tylko
12 december 2025
wiesiek
12 december 2025
Eva T.
10 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele