Poezja

The rocks in water 
like words, between 
the tears. 
Quasi-pain, reverberating 
like a river. 
 
It flows― 
intermittently. The lava 
of an active volcano. 
You want to cover 
the smashed skull. 
 
The mirror 
breaks, under the shock. 
It had never happened before. 
A nude streaking 
on the screen. 
 
The moon had nothing 
to offer. Over and spent. 
It moves on its axis 
ungoverning― 
the stars.