Poezja

I will accept 
the curse 
of acquisition. 
 
 
You wear an epic 
on the fingers. 
I read a virgin. 
 
My shadow joins 
the moon at night. 
How tall were you? 
 
Hold my arm 
once. In terror 
I had kisses an old flame. 
 
Death will be 
my only landmark. 
My journey ends in your arms.