untitled
I wish I could write in plain day lighttickle with the Peebles mounting
a little statue in stones
I hear the sound of the river, as it inhales
as i grill the marshmallows
its thick surfaces crisping under the fire
the buckle is shortly buckled
my eyes are revolving, I feel that I've lived my entire life
whose dreams I couldn't breeze away
the last emotions that capture your attention
is supposed to leave with you in the underworld
that's why I watched carefully my uncle dead face
Poetry by Albert Vynckier
Read 16 times
Written on 2026-05-08 at 16:50
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Sameen |
