6 february 2023
Hope In Undoing
Stay till end of
my poem, for
dying sun.
Howling winds searched
my body, my soul
when I stood alone.
The blue scorpion knows
its religion. That was predation.
Landfall for hungry.
If the blood leaks,
the victim sings for moksha.
Milking starts.
The golden leaves
are peeled off from the moon.
No night was safe.
17 march 2025
absynt
17 march 2025
absynt
17 march 2025
absynt
17 march 2025
ajw
17 march 2025
ajw
15 march 2025
absynt
15 march 2025
absynt
15 march 2025
ajw
14 march 2025
absynt
14 march 2025
absynt