7 february 2019
Fealty
Doing nothing, for no
obvious reason, engaging
the travails of self-watch, I do
not want to confront the propensity
of withdrawl.
The elder pain blooms, again
like Ipomea. Will not stand the
bright sun’s gaze, I will sail―
out between the blackened
teeth and stammering
words.
It sucks, the female snake.
The phloem, the flora. A tree kills
its own birds. Cannot ambulate
tender promises. A stricture
chokes the poem. Double-
edged truth lifts the weight.
Moon knows the art of giving.
Sends the blood tears.
19 march 2024
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Ruda na platynowoabsynt
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Art In DyingSatish Verma
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W gotowościJaga
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takie tam ćwiczenieabsynt
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I Will SurviveSatish Verma
16 march 2024
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tu i teraz, zanurzając sięTomek i Agatka
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Drzewo recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz