Poezja

A wreath of skulls
you want to hang on the wall.

I don't want to
lose the skin.
The land was bleeding.

Mars mission. A very
lonely flight, pulls me down.

Do you have a
pearl knife?
Small talisman, you used to wear
when you were a child
to ward off the evil spirits.

A buttonless chest. The map
you drew on the torso was tense.
The woods were nowhere. Only
the dry sands.

I wanted to make a slit in the stone,
to release the holy water,
but it was only tears―