19 july 2017
Strange
All night November,
I was searching the vulnerable
lips after loosing you.
Now fingerless hands
were moving the sun-dial
away from light.
The shroud was heavy,
I would not breathe.
Give me a blue moon before dawn.
You cannot engage in
sudden withdrawl. I will
come back for a kiss.
The paper that leaves a wound,
I will not sign for the bread.
My hands had stopped trembling.
17 march 2025
Eva T.
17 march 2025
wiesiek
17 march 2025
absynt
17 march 2025
absynt
17 march 2025
absynt
17 march 2025
ajw
17 march 2025
ajw
15 march 2025
absynt
15 march 2025
absynt
15 march 2025
ajw