“You’re all the fucking enemy, Another sign of the plague within” Voices from a mountain, peacock in the sky
Under a lavender-imbrued Black vainglorious veil so visible Light my mirror with the tumbling glow Of your perfect bathic baetyl
Ocellated god spoke to the crowd Through tremolo bells from a city window While from the hills out back, not quite as loud Came the horses’ more uneven tremolo Inside: mornings, writings, hope, Reproductions of the most famous Van Gogh Outside: only my scotoscope It was night, out here And always would beTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
