3 january 2021
Hauntingly
Sometimes the unholy fears
come obliquely-
from the scorpions.
Tongue tastes the salt of spilled
hate. You execute the hooded anxieties,
creating a cadaver pyramid.
Stich-open-stitch. Cobra
in the bush. Awesome colors of eyes
Brown-blue-green.
I am not going to kiss
the chillies. Burning hot lips.
The contours were enticing.
I shut my eyes for a weird encounter.
The floors pulverized. I still
stand in mud, on my own.
22 november 2024
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Pod miękkim śniegiemJaga
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Liście drzew w czerwonychEva T.
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Światełka listopadaJaga
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Niech deszcz śpiewa ci kołysankę.Eva T.
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Jeden mostJaga
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0011.