My self born of soil
Pulled
Falling backward
To the earth
My fat grows
My ****** is wet
My mind is empty
I am one with black humus and dust
Kingdom of my
This strange eyes
What they are doing?
Always growing, looking up
Thoughts like blossoms
Angels of the grass
What they are searching for?
Hope?
Happy soil
Seeing Him
Lost the chance
(Again and again)
Everything was open
Burning
Sky
Sun transformed
Thoughts
Dec 8, 2015
Dec 8, 2015 at 8:09 AM UTC