23 april 2021
Carrying Scars
The prediction goes awry.
I wipe away an exotic
smudge on the paper.
I was trying to fight
venom of adverbs and
adjectives.
I want to retrieve my
poem, as it was― before
the digital onslaught of beheadings.
Give me my garden room,
baby moon and spotless
needles. My blood was blind.
I would come again in
my burial mode, when
your trenches are ready.
19 march 2024
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1802wiesiek
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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
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tu i teraz, zanurzając sięTomek i Agatka
16 march 2024
Drzewo recykling 2020Marianna Małgosia Bakanowicz