21 września 2016
Unruffled
Was I sane?
Like poetry infiltrating,
when you were eating grass?
And money was walking free.
The hollow eyes
had the moral authority
to expunge the fidelity from the
book. Are the blue needles
hurting you, I was asking moon?
Moon’s stony eyes started
watering. Strangers in bed, the
trust had a different taste, another smell.
Words were loaded, they were
going to start beheading a tender song.
14 marca 2026
wiesiek
14 marca 2026
Jaga
14 marca 2026
violetta
14 marca 2026
dobrosław77
13 marca 2026
wiesiek
13 marca 2026
sam53
12 marca 2026
wiesiek
12 marca 2026
Weronika
12 marca 2026
sam53
11 marca 2026
Jaga