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.
2 april 2026
wiesiek
1 april 2026
wiesiek
30 march 2026
absynt
29 march 2026
absynt
29 march 2026
absynt
28 march 2026
absynt
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka