4 july 2022
Not Asters
Your roses drink the
sun in dewy dawn. I catch the
speed of dying moon.
The rains bring in new
asterisks to anoint the verses
before their burial.
One more mercy to let
the shadows of swallows fall
on my blank pages.
Your lips are like hinged
leaves of Venus flytrap. Become shut
when you trap the words.
19 march 2024
Legs.Eva T.
19 march 2024
The Pain Was Not YouSatish Verma
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Ruda na platynowoabsynt
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Art In DyingSatish Verma
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W gotowościJaga
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takie tam ćwiczenieabsynt
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I Will SurviveSatish Verma
16 march 2024
1603wiesiek
16 march 2024
Drzewo recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz
16 march 2024
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