Nov 3, 2014

Thatched feast


The bone on bone
And nail through the flesh
On one ear rain
On the second heat
We break until somebody recognize us

Thatched feast

Never enough  of death
Oil  is under the soles
Dust is universe in itself
Mud is in the eyes
One arm is broken, the other nervous

Thatched feast

Only two bridges to Katowice
There, no one knows me

And mornings again

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