8 august 2021
Under The Palm Moon
A broken step―
halts me. I move towards
you at the inner call.
Clockwise, going
sensual, you turn into
a greek fire.
Make me angry and suffer.
Don't carry the legacy
of darkpeers.
Reading my poetry for
a while, you fumbled
tracing your fingers on some beautiful words.
The moon would
shine tonight to share the crocuses.
I may write your name
on scented winds.
Easy lips. Were your trying to say something? Yet
you fall on ancient adage.
23 february 2025
Jaga
23 february 2025
absynt
23 february 2025
wiesiek
23 february 2025
Eva T.
23 february 2025
ajw
23 february 2025
ajw
23 february 2025
Jaga
22 february 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
22 february 2025
Eva T.
22 february 2025
wiesiek