28 stycznia 2022
How To Decipher
Like a virgin birth,
a poem floats
without any pain.
Superimposes, as if
on a face, like Mona Lisa,
with her mysterious smile,
longing a release from
the cycle of rebirth.
Are you going to reperform
for me, your silent
surrender, bewildering
a lost pilgrim?
Will you become a
sitter like a moon-faced, veiled
by crying clouds? I had been
trying to touch your lips, eyes.
This vicious assault
was for me. Stony eyes, and
the striking hood―
impel kleptomania.
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