19 maja 2023
Unreachable
Like clones, your hands
embrace, winding up
the duty of fists―
in half-light.
Was your love
primordial? I would ask
myself, accepting the tears
from your red eyes.
I will borrow your
faults. Want to become
human. The defeat in
your hands was rewarding.
The rivals bloom,
without water of eyes.
O daisy, I was run over
by the stamping of clouds.
Give me the speed of light.
17 marca 2025
Eva T.
17 marca 2025
Marek Gajowniczek
17 marca 2025
wiesiek
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
eyesOFsoul
17 marca 2025
absynt
17 marca 2025
Belamonte/Senograsta
17 marca 2025
ajw