13 october 2019
Did Not We Cry?
Ash and smoke.
I am fever, not becoming
any sound.
Like a lichen, a mycorrhiza
on damp soil,
unfound by light.
Thriving in airless
dark. Will not see the cool―
moon of summer night.
There was no key
to find the invisible.
A random poem will see.
Your painted body
in blue scars, still
remembers the fallen roof.
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
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W gotowościJaga
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takie tam ćwiczenieabsynt
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I Will SurviveSatish Verma
16 march 2024
1603wiesiek
16 march 2024
Drzewo recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz
16 march 2024
Róże recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz