20 june 2020
Self-Righteousness
Put a candle under
the rose bush.
I am going to draw blood
from the moon.
See my body has become
a boat and you are the sea.
I am an opus Dei
and you are my deity.
We mist and we rain
on our frailties. The drama
unfolds, when we grieve
for the butterflies.
Who was taller than
our sins? Like pixies
falling from the skies.
16 september 2025
wiesiek
16 september 2025
absynt
16 september 2025
absynt
15 september 2025
wiesiek
14 september 2025
wiesiek
13 september 2025
wiesiek
12 september 2025
wiesiek
9 september 2025
absynt
9 september 2025
ajw
9 september 2025
Jaga