10 may 2020
Wafer-Thin
Wearing a straitjacket
you come out in open.
This was a black day.
You were not invited.
The economy smells of stale fever.
A pungent smoke rises
from the joints.
A decision drifts. Scare of
paper bomb stills―
the flow of tea.
There was a party.
People come and go. Skullcaps
galore. White on brown sugar.
There is no love lost between us.
16 august 2025
wiesiek
16 august 2025
wiesiek
15 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
wiesiek
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
14 august 2025
absynt
13 august 2025
wiesiek
13 august 2025
absynt