16 lipca 2017
Truncated
A midnight craft
dumps the moon
on a heap of deceits.
I ask my sap to turn back for truism.
It was a question of spacing
between the bodies
in scapegoats;
coming for slaughter.
A scale measures the depth
of defeats. The hands
were busy in mending the
walls of psychiatric ward.
Have you ever tasted a white
poison, sweet in taste?
When you grow old, you will
look like your father.
The name which was absent
in calendar, was found everywhere.
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
eyesOFsoul
17 marca 2025
absynt
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Belamonte/Senograsta
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ajw
17 marca 2025
ajw
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ajw
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ajw
16 marca 2025
Yaro
16 marca 2025
sam53