5 august 2022
In Cursive Style
A bruise has appeared―
where you had kissed me,
last night. O Miranda―
I am not going for any other moon.
Like Uranus, I bleed
in my eyes; from every pore.
Astraphobia― I am going to
stay in dark.
This theology of aneurysms?
Who was hoodwinking
the ancient gods in the battle
of murderous themes? My hands
start shaking.
A blue rash spreads.
In honeyed voice you invoke
your angel and seek blessings―
before you go for a rape.
26 november 2024
2611wiesiek
26 november 2024
0021absynt
26 november 2024
Gdy rozkołysze wiatrJaga
25 november 2024
AfrykankaTeresa Tomys
25 november 2024
2511wiesiek
25 november 2024
0019absynt
25 november 2024
Pod skrzydłamiJaga
24 november 2024
0018absynt
24 november 2024
0017absynt
24 november 2024
0015absynt