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 april 2026
wiesiek
8 april 2026
Jaga
8 april 2026
wiesiek
7 april 2026
wiesiek
6 april 2026
wiesiek
6 april 2026
eL. Marandhie
6 april 2026
eL. Marandhie
5 april 2026
wiesiek
1 april 2026
wiesiek
24 march 2026
marka