26 listopada 2014
POINSETTIA
What was that inside you
which was not ready to accept
the compound folly of a man?
What worry do I carry tonight
to my bed?
An intentional leap into the very
fire of mind?
A virgin garden battles with a storm
It is ready to mince the words
for a carnal smell of poinsettia,
and I am going to lower the guard
from wrinkled eyes.
Like a thong around the neck
to obtain the tongue.
I turn towards the blood of game
global erosion of love and waxen defeat!
Satish Verma
17 marca 2025
Eva T.
17 marca 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
17 marca 2025
wiesiek
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
eyesOFsoul
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
17 marca 2025
ajw