18 april 2019
Fangs Open
Aghast at the―
burning brutality and domination
of the glaring sun, I will
ask the moon, when will
it release the hormones.
A palm size,
unscripted poem, struggles
to come on the surface;
pulled between the moon
and the sea.
The libidinal instinct,
overtakes the activist. A newly
minted face throws the shadow;
equivocal. The traffic of
poppies will freeze in the tracks.
Here are the keys and
there were the locks.
19 march 2024
The Pain Was Not YouSatish Verma
18 march 2024
1802wiesiek
18 march 2024
Ruda na platynowoabsynt
18 march 2024
Art In DyingSatish Verma
17 march 2024
W gotowościJaga
17 march 2024
takie tam ćwiczenieabsynt
17 march 2024
I Will SurviveSatish Verma
16 march 2024
1603wiesiek
16 march 2024
tu i teraz, zanurzając sięTomek i Agatka
16 march 2024
Drzewo recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz