26 march 2021
Interposted
Escaping the unknown
becomes easier
when you listen
to the echos of dark.
My god says, the peeled
oranges will feed the
starved moon, when you
invite the rains.
Invisible hills will send
the bronze poems to you,
once the black night starts
drinking the green water.
The nightmare looms large―
climbs up my chest to
lick the isles, throwing me in
parenthesis, failing the commas.
28 november 2024
IkarJaga
28 november 2024
2811wiesiek
28 november 2024
0025absynt
28 november 2024
0024absynt
28 november 2024
bo jak wtedy jest nas wszędzieEva T.
27 november 2024
0023absynt
27 november 2024
0022absynt
27 november 2024
Jedno pióro jest ptakiemEva T.
27 november 2024
Mgła ustępujeJaga
27 november 2024
Camouflage.Eva T.