The crunch, step
And sharp look.
No place for conversation.
Fatal grasp with the hand
And kiss with the twin in
The bloody dawn.

Just a little tear drop,
Well known look
And the last kiss.

The guest is stepping down
Dumb movement in the flesh,
And another red
Movement in the flesh.

No crunch,
The redness evaporates
In the cold dawn.

by Sasho Ognenovski

Other poems of OGNENOVSKI (14)

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