9 march 2018
Ironbound
Last night a dream,
died in infancy, when you
were drawing a circle
of pain in rainbows.
The hurt of blind alleys,
and the rebounding image
of burnt-out candles in night.
The full moon will only enhance─
the burns. I do not want to talk
about the divine will of making
a baby, out of willing or unwilling
surrender. Lines are blurred.
You want to ask the moon─
Are you convinced, it was not
a rape? A butterfly is snuffed out
in your palm, you do not know.
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
30 july 2025
absynt
29 july 2025
wiesiek
28 july 2025
Jaga
28 july 2025
wiesiek
28 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
absynt