5 january 2020
Unthreading
It was a damp kiss
of an image.
Dispassionately you drop
an old coin into my hands.
Faithless in your poem.
I adored the Venus in twilight.
Carnation. A rose pink color,
appears in your eyes.
Rising from the marshy
slush, greater flamingos
keep watch underneath, at the
army of urns.
The sameness now dithers.
You want to weave the moon
in your breast, unpreparing
to open the heart.
1 february 2025
0102wiesiek
1 february 2025
Góra w chmurachajw
1 february 2025
Paulinaajw
31 january 2025
3101wiesiek
31 january 2025
Martaajw
30 january 2025
Nawet w styczniu jest wiosnaJaga
30 january 2025
Nadiaajw
29 january 2025
0038absynt
29 january 2025
2901wiesiek
28 january 2025
2801wiesiek