4 november 2022
Without Claws
When the hurting
fails to speak, tribalism wins,
without a shine.
When I hold your
hand, you wanted to know
the ethics of our sins.
Then you bend in dream
like the circinate frond
or maidenhair, to kiss
my bleeding toes.
For you someone
would be falling apart. Take care
of him to the death of night.
The body will meet
the dust one day, to understand
life and come back to
unload the virtues.
Not you, not me
we all are superficial.
19 december 2025
Jaga
19 december 2025
steve
19 december 2025
steve
18 december 2025
wiesiek
15 december 2025
Jaga
14 december 2025
wiesiek
14 december 2025
jeśli tylko
12 december 2025
wiesiek
12 december 2025
Eva T.
10 december 2025
Anthony DiMichele