21 stycznia 2024
Blood Prints
Do not wade in
tears, in blood-deep wounds.
It was a black gold.
Moon was hauling
the night. There was no ending
of empty words. Silver
would not leap in
sun. I become poor in
the court of charity.
21 stycznia 2024
Do not wade in
tears, in blood-deep wounds.
It was a black gold.
Moon was hauling
the night. There was no ending
of empty words. Silver
would not leap in
sun. I become poor in
the court of charity.
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