31 lipca 2014
BLAST
In a pool of blood
a face swims.
Under the boulders
there is a muffled scream.
Your private god was not there.
The space is littered with death-snacks.
Births a bloom of limbs,
stained shirts,
twisted wheels.
Dam of tears had a breach.
Stampede of legs –
abandoning the footwears.
Faces disappearing in smoke, confusion.
Road is deserted. A white pigeon lies dead
on his back, slicing the air.
Satish Verma
18 marca 2026
wiesiek
18 marca 2026
violetta
17 marca 2026
wiesiek
17 marca 2026
sam53
16 marca 2026
Jaga
16 marca 2026
wiesiek
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Jaga
15 marca 2026
wiesiek
15 marca 2026
sam53
15 marca 2026
absynt