Poezja

Step aside. 
Tension of mining gold 
barrels through 
mating preference. 
 
The shadows under the 
eyes were lengthening. 
A childhood alley had― 
the cul-de-sac. 
 
A face trembles in your 
hands when you kiss 
the tears of a melting peak. 
The body collects the honey. 
 
A sleeping moon drifts 
like a fallen virgin, 
covering the face in the headscarf 
of brazen clouds.