17 june 2020
Death Mask
It was not the worth
of a cloud,
your garden, sitting
on the lake.
Refresh drops, in the
dry eyes of the rope, which was
wounding around your neck
like a snake.
You want to become
a blue god now, on
opioids. A living ruin, attracting
the tourists.
The terrible change,
we are dragging our dead body
under the shadow of
the toes.
20 april 2021
Satish Verma
19 april 2021
Satish Verma
18 april 2021
martini
18 april 2021
Satish Verma
17 april 2021
martini
17 april 2021
Satish Verma
16 april 2021
martini
16 april 2021
Satish Verma
15 april 2021
wiesiek
15 april 2021
Satish Verma