26 october 2019
No Explanation
How difficult it was to
remain a simple truth,
as passive grass
with no frills.
I was ready to talk
heart to heart.
You cannot stand all the ink,
writing, simple verse, furtively.
What was eating you up,
I asked the milkweed.
"On this summer, monarchs
were not coming to breed"
it said.
I felt the unease. Grappled with the
amount of pain, at tiny thoughts.
The scale and brutality
of the times, the throats slit open.
Like a clam you shut up.
28 november 2024
IkarJaga
28 november 2024
2811wiesiek
28 november 2024
0025absynt
28 november 2024
0024absynt
28 november 2024
bo jak wtedy jest nas wszędzieEva T.
27 november 2024
0023absynt
27 november 2024
0022absynt
27 november 2024
Jedno pióro jest ptakiemEva T.
27 november 2024
Mgła ustępujeJaga
27 november 2024
Camouflage.Eva T.