26 june 2022
Missing The Bus
For the memory of palms,
the pretence lives on―
the blade of a saber.
You run on the sands
barefoot― to catch the waves
returning back to sea.
You had stopped
talking to me― wearing the
mystery― I loved.
On skin you print the
anthem. Somebody kills the lamb.
The pathos went quiet.
Becoming cold turkey,
absolutely white. The pilgrimage
over, you break the coconut.
28 february 2026
wiesiek
27 february 2026
wiesiek
27 february 2026
wiesiek
26 february 2026
Jaga
25 february 2026
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24 february 2026
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23 february 2026
Jaga
23 february 2026
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22 february 2026
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22 february 2026
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