19 january 2022
History Repeats
My killing instincts
were intact.
On this bloody moon day―
I must talk to myself.
Just lips would move,
not the mind.
A mode of non-being
comes in fore. You watch the pansies dancing―
nonchalantly.
The air passes. White phosphorus
ignites on its own.
Memory alternates with pain.
It is not over.
We are still searching ourselves
in a mound of earth.
19 march 2026
wiesiek
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16 march 2026
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16 march 2026
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16 march 2026
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15 march 2026
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15 march 2026
absynt
14 march 2026
wiesiek
14 march 2026
Jaga