28 november 2020
Dismantled
Trembling…
the burning coal has gone to sleep,
before igniting the dry grass.
Eye to eye colliding
turning you into ophelian mess.
Light had gone back to black matter.
It was a frisk season-
in sick society. The hidden plaques
have come out in the blood stream.
You are now backtracking
on the uphill, ready to fall
from the green heights to connect with ground.
For keepsake I will
again unwrite the book
not mentioning the stillbirth of freedom.
25 november 2024
AfrykankaTeresa Tomys
25 november 2024
2511wiesiek
25 november 2024
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25 november 2024
Pod skrzydłamiJaga
24 november 2024
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24 november 2024
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24 november 2024
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24 november 2024
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24 november 2024
2411wiesiek
23 november 2024
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