19 july 2023
In Trance
Less molecular
affinity exists in the breaths
of time gone by.
I will squeeze
my lips stitching the
borders of pain.
Brown salt was
taking the color of hails.
Knives were red.
You know the truth.
Religion covers the half-
burned candles.
Draped in shroud,
the untouched womb
picks up the priest.
Even the stars
go dim like orphans
of sky, searching god.
4 september 2025
ajw
3 september 2025
wiesiek
2 september 2025
wiesiek
1 september 2025
wiesiek
1 september 2025
Jaga
29 august 2025
Jaga
29 august 2025
ajw
28 august 2025
absynt
27 august 2025
absynt
24 august 2025
absynt