25 april 2021
Blue Grace
Darkness always weighs heavy.
And light was weightless.
You were visible to me.
I was not sure, which
god went numerical.
I was carrying my scars.
It offers no solace
if I become you, and
start hunting the filters.
Let the moon rise in―
its imperial robe, in
praise of setting sun.
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absynt
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jeśli tylko
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marka