22 april 2020
Penury Ward
In tattered clothes.
I would see my returned privation.
I will make the holes bigger,
so that light seeps in,
on my blackened chest.
The lovers will not meet
today, out, in open;
on moonward path.
The charred remains―
of the rope are visible.
The soaked blanket, to sleep in,
has become infernal.
What are you drinking now?
No other passage,
no exit, even the kiss of death?
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
wiesiek
23 march 2026
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23 march 2026
Jaga
22 march 2026
wiesiek
19 march 2026
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