Poezja

The dazzling star
went through me.
I was undemanding
from dusk to dusk
hurting myself, not anybody.

Time to meet my twin,
to set he black on orange.
My guilt, my fear, my foreboding.
Let go off, my sap in the twigs,
fruits were coming down.

Under the guise of innocence
eruptiness entered into non-thought.
One by one snakes unrolled
with black eyes, under the succulent breasts,
the black poison clapping the pink lips.

The dirt was spreading
on the hands of unborn children.
Their eyes searching the seeds.
On dark beads of mother.
Father had been killed in a cave.