Poezja

Kiss me hard―
defending your poverty.
It was a flawless depression.

Do not need any sand-storm
to cover the jutting bones.
Time was full of tragedies.

Did you ever hear of―
the fences in a divided house?
The prayers without words?

Drunk in a moonless―
night, of the unheard voices,
you stumble on Ars Poetics.

More wreaths for the
forgotten lover of letters.
Life moves on.