18 february 2022
Reading Arthur Rimbaud
Dressed to assassinate,
not having much hope.
Were you really―
serious for me?
Like en face
a star giggles, between
quivering small moons.
The night is drunk. You
hear a long hoot, from
enfant terrible, to scare away
the kiss of inevitable.
What a bliss to live
in the black heart of the moment,
when the sun unwraps
the flame.
Complete annihilation
of million desires. You
become the walking death
of unknown.
28 july 2025
Jaga
28 july 2025
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28 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
absynt
28 july 2025
absynt
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absynt
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ajw