17 maja 2020
Cold-Bloodedness
Gifting myself a new
hurt, though ephemeral, do
you feel my nearness
when I don't speak?
It doesn't work, your
patience with a deadpan face.
How would you talk to
butterflies, hollyhocks and
blackbirds?
You had tried to overrun
your own self by giving away
your eyes.Mind it, your
vision will still follow you
at burning pyre.
Weep, weep my poems
weep.The seduction was not
your gold, nor your enemies.
Then whom you are going to make
your god?
The handcuffs have no answer.
22 listopada 2024
niemiła księdzu ofiarasam53
22 listopada 2024
po szkoleYaro
22 listopada 2024
22.11wiesiek
22 listopada 2024
wierszejeśli tylko
22 listopada 2024
Pod miękkim śniegiemJaga
22 listopada 2024
Liście drzew w czerwonychEva T.
22 listopada 2024
Potrzeba zanikuBelamonte/Senograsta
21 listopada 2024
Drżenia niewidzialnych membranArsis
21 listopada 2024
21.11wiesiek
21 listopada 2024
Światełka listopadaJaga