7 march 2022
So Be It
Dismantling―
my temple, brick by brick―
skin to skin,
eye to eye,
before the ascension.
The living legend is
dead. I cannot hear the burial
rites. Walls are rising.
The ashes are strewn
on the eyes of moon. Ages ago I
used to smile. Not now.
Accept me, with all
my non-gifts, dead songs and
wailing prayers.
My hands lift the terror
from the sand, palm leaves
crafting a virgin peace.
12 january 2025
1201wiesiek
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ciepło-zimnojeśli tylko
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1001wiesiek
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0601wiesiek
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Każde wspomnienie jest jakEva T.
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Każda rzecz nocą nabieraEva T.
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Happy New Year!Eva T.
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