12 listopada 2019
Endless Yearning
The thirst will know,
the river was there.
To lie on the grass was ultimate.
It was not the green,
it was not the blue,
but desire had the keyhole to look
at the fine sands,
where you stand to find the
elixir of life.
A crackling of joint, awakens
you. You will not wait
for the rains to come and overwhelm
the permeable umbrella.
A fluttering butterfly
knows, how to become floppy
and dangle like a dead leaf.
The stream was
drinking its own water.
14 marca 2025
Marek Jastrząb
14 marca 2025
sam53
13 marca 2025
marka
13 marca 2025
marka
13 marca 2025
marka
13 marca 2025
marka
13 marca 2025
marka
13 marca 2025
wiesiek
13 marca 2025
Yaro
13 marca 2025
absynt