Poezja

A gene switch takes an 
ultimate spin. The 
hunger pangs increase. 
Nostalgia looks up at the moon. 
 
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I cannot predict the junk; 
cannot see the dark matter. 
But I know well, how you will 
behave when your head explodes. 
 
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The body stuns the anointed 
deity. It was difficult to foretell 
who was a sinner. I 
do not want to summon another god. 
 
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You open the belly knot of a 
beast. A butterfly flutters 
on your lips. I implore a memorable 
kiss of the beautiful descent.