19 lipca 2017
Strange
All night November,
I was searching the vulnerable
lips after loosing you.
Now fingerless hands
were moving the sun-dial
away from light.
The shroud was heavy,
I would not breathe.
Give me a blue moon before dawn.
You cannot engage in
sudden withdrawl. I will
come back for a kiss.
The paper that leaves a wound,
I will not sign for the bread.
My hands had stopped trembling.
12 sierpnia 2025
ais
11 sierpnia 2025
Jaga
11 sierpnia 2025
absynt
11 sierpnia 2025
absynt
11 sierpnia 2025
wiesiek
11 sierpnia 2025
violetta
11 sierpnia 2025
jeśli tylko
10 sierpnia 2025
sam53
10 sierpnia 2025
Bernadetta