3 november 2021
Barriers
Your frozen words float
like flakes
falling from invisible lips.
Aimlessly I would
pick up the yearnings
trying to caress me.
Talking to me in
hushed tones, to give a
tang of silence and release.
The otherness, like a
silvery spider's web invites.
You wait at the edge, pondering―
To walk in or not. You
bite your tongue, cannot move.
There were suicides.
The cadavers talk.
25 november 2025
Anthony DiMichele
25 november 2025
Anthony DiMichele
25 november 2025
Jaga
24 november 2025
wiesiek
23 november 2025
wiesiek
23 november 2025
Jaga
22 november 2025
wiesiek
21 november 2025
wiesiek
20 november 2025
wiesiek
20 november 2025
Jaga