Poezja

Chinks― honest to nails,
averting the wants.
It was very dark here.
My screams were not reaching to you.

The sublety seeps
into conversation. Salt was
very bitter. Tears swirl at
the banks of hurts. The stains
were becoming darker.

Poachers were honing
their pens. Someone falls
out of line, to take revenge
on the gods.

Weather was changing.
No dress code was needed
to take a dip in holy water.
A moon crunch will meet you in nude.