3 kwietnia 2019
Intensity Of A Flame
Without audible conflict
I invoke your face
from withered names.
It was always a big NO,
when I would seek comfort
in high sounding verdicts.
An unspoken, painful,
agony to script for an
unwritten foe.
The muscle will twitch
involuntarily, to taste
one’s own ink.
In the waning moon
I will come at your door
to ask for a poem.
15 marca 2026
wiesiek
15 marca 2026
sam53
15 marca 2026
absynt
15 marca 2026
absynt
14 marca 2026
wiesiek
14 marca 2026
Jaga
14 marca 2026
violetta
14 marca 2026
dobrosław77
13 marca 2026
wiesiek
13 marca 2026
sam53