31 january 2021
Afloat In Words
Would not move the things.
They had moved me.
I will never be the same.
Probably a time to learn,
listening to yourself. The
sensors didn't go wrong.
More often I will unroll
my candles and burn
them with my life.
Ripening old, in dry
fountains― waiting for
rains in songs of sorrow.
History does not repeat.
I am preparing myself
to start again writing my book.
Will not commit anything.
Standing in morgue
searching for my unclaimed face.
1 april 2026
wiesiek
30 march 2026
absynt
29 march 2026
absynt
29 march 2026
absynt
28 march 2026
absynt
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
24 march 2026
marka
23 march 2026
Jaga