25 december 2016
Untrodden Snow
A night of one thousand moons
and I am dancing
in dark.
Circa.
My half-script was left
with you, under a scrap.
Now I am not
finding any punctuations
in the aerie.
At unknown heights
wake me up in blue depths
when sun does not rise.
Stones placed on hyacinth
will not bury the scent.
I might bring another red spike.
11 august 2025
Jaga
11 august 2025
absynt
11 august 2025
absynt
11 august 2025
wiesiek
11 august 2025
jeśli tylko
10 august 2025
Jaga
9 august 2025
absynt
9 august 2025
absynt
9 august 2025
Jaga
8 august 2025
wiesiek