17 july 2020
Trying To Breath
No final goodbye. No poetic
apology. No introduction
to a frightening joke of
a blue Buddha.
The neonates were blind.
There was no alternative, except
to wish them luck. I wanted
to leave my pangs with razor points.
Morality and hunted crimes.
It was a shadow boxing
in cryptobiosis. A bleak day
invites no more clouds.
You talk to the solitary moon.
The silence enters the reeds.
A whistling wakes up the night.
Death goes for a walk.
31 july 2025
absynt
31 july 2025
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30 july 2025
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29 july 2025
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28 july 2025
Jaga
28 july 2025
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27 july 2025
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ajw
21 july 2025
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