3 june 2023
So Much To Think
You swirl around
my poems to enter old nest.
I do not know how to pray.
I will backtrack
to find my footprints in
your glistening eyes.
To admire the purity
of flame, I taste red berries
of firethorn. You recite
a sacred hymn.
No name was needed
for unknown agony of your mind.
Neither you will muse
nor I will write.
Every December snow
becomes a shroud.
15 march 2025
wiesiek
15 march 2025
absynt
15 march 2025
absynt
15 march 2025
ajw
14 march 2025
absynt
14 march 2025
absynt
14 march 2025
absynt
14 march 2025
jeśli tylko
14 march 2025
ajw
13 march 2025
marka