Poezja

Perpetual stasis 
in blank stares. 
Who was yawning to moon? 
 
Balmy night will unlock 
the secrets of graphic images. 
Life casts a spell on you. 
 
Like a round worm 
in search of a ceramic cow. 
Let me mix the money with fame. 
 
The unfelt pleasure 
of a crooked script – 
in twilight zone. Every person 
 
was wearing a cloud. Deftly 
you break the urn of ashes 
to find the stolen eyes.