8 july 2019
It Kills It Kills
Eaten up, by wanderlust―
I started my sleepwalks
cheating my dreams.
The grace of knife was there...
it did not open in daylight.
Night was the brilliant host.
When do I meet you―
behind the moon― when stars
were not twinkling out of fear?
The rare gift of footnotes
was sufficient to explain―
the meaning of abstract pain.
You will not treat the stings―
very unkindly. They were
meant to awaken you from letting it go.
19 march 2024
Legs.Eva T.
19 march 2024
The Pain Was Not YouSatish Verma
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Ruda na platynowoabsynt
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Art In DyingSatish Verma
17 march 2024
W gotowościJaga
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takie tam ćwiczenieabsynt
17 march 2024
I Will SurviveSatish Verma
16 march 2024
1603wiesiek
16 march 2024
Drzewo recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz
16 march 2024
Róże recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz