Poezja

Stitch your eyes
before you see the slit,
in the rock, that brought
an earthquake.

The sensors were
becoming robotic. You cannot
feel touch or smell the
thoughts.

The spider silk
was very strong. It
twists your reasoning without
spilling blood.

Pass on-some salt.
It was too sweet to believe
in the words of a half-soul.

I want to get back
my old pain.