9 november 2024
To End The Poem
When you walk
on moon in February, I take-down
the clouds to become wet.
Your memory lingers.
I gather the monarchs to
play with my past.
I am not sure, when
the dark moves on to give space
to imprisoned pain.
18 september 2025
wiesiek
17 september 2025
wiesiek
16 september 2025
wiesiek
16 september 2025
absynt
16 september 2025
absynt
15 september 2025
wiesiek
14 september 2025
wiesiek
13 september 2025
wiesiek
12 september 2025
wiesiek
9 september 2025
absynt