Thingless Poems


Waiting

...Under the gaze of bald beliefs
a warped dialect
becomes a squeezer.
Helplessly  I watch
the slashing of my wrists.

Darkness burns, without light
only intense heat.
The expected miracle digs ...
...
Continue reading...
Categories: thingless, art
Form: I do not know?
Get a Premium Membership
Get more exposure for your poetry and more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Reflection on the Important Things

Hide Ad