8 november 2021
From The Flames
Under your eyes
shadows, my poems curl up.
When do I call you?
From wires, tiny drops
of dew hang perilously.
Sun was going to kiss.
First I take you, then
I will cry for the last time.
Going to meet the gods.
9 september 2025
wiesiek
9 september 2025
absynt
9 september 2025
absynt
9 september 2025
ajw
9 september 2025
Jaga
8 september 2025
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8 september 2025
wiesiek
7 september 2025
jeśli tylko
6 september 2025
wiesiek
5 september 2025
ajw