18 lipca 2012
BLOOD DIARY
Writing on sleeves
to remember your departure
and becoming a stray cloud.
The maternal touch
of the sky, you can sleep whole life
on dense logics.
White sheets were burning
unannounced in the home.
I lost the key, to open the door.
All I wanted to tell you
about, selling the roses.
Thorns must not go free.
The snake was shedding the skin,
time to hone on whetstone.
The tender loaf was ready.
Satish Verma
7 marca 2026
wiesiek
7 marca 2026
violetta
7 marca 2026
dobrosław77
6 marca 2026
sam53
6 marca 2026
wiesiek
6 marca 2026
sam53
5 marca 2026
Kreton
5 marca 2026
jeśli tylko
5 marca 2026
jeśli tylko
5 marca 2026
wiesiek