Peaches at dusk.

Peaches at dusk.

Lubomír Tomik
/ dedicated to You, without You I would be dead, You are my Scarlet wife /

I open my eyes,
i have a piece of paper in my own stomach and it stands on it, almost painted, in ornamental writing from the late 18th century:

She fell through space
explicit words
fast swirling around her
sighing in the lips,
astonished inaBility to pronounce them to pronounce,
shAttered by feelings
and yet she did,
she soon put her tongue on hers
tasting of darkness

peaches at dusk
and the Boundaries of light and darkness
peAches at dusk
and he counts the months and counts the days,
bow taut to burst
eye firm and cLear
dO not hope for the grace of a scarlet woman

peaches at dusk
aNd they are enhanced by the feeling of sweetness, vanity,
peaches at dusk
and the moon is underfoot,
bow stretched rainbow
she bends herself,
the beauty of a scarlet woman

baroque twilight Peaches
thEy activate pRimitive animal instincts
peaches at DUsk
and the way to you only leads this way,
the hunteR hAngs at the goddess’s waist
occupied by a BrOken spine,
the tool of a scarlet woman

peaches of twilight, light, darkness,
and the record turns and turns
peaches at dusk
and you seek the shadows of sharpened thistles,
the Bow stretches the hunter
he sends it ornAmantally across the forest,
across the heart of a scarlet woman

platinum, narrow mouth
ecstatically you
it opens
the claws of your hands,
the worried one always looks me in the eye
he tears me to pieces over and over again,
and I’m watching your pupils
flashing fantastic sos,
again, crystal clear tenderness in your service.

i close my eyes.
peaches at dusk affected by light whipping.

when you pour coffee, the hot water slips into the pop art mug
spills on the sides,
like a hand sliding down a Boy’s Ass of a jazz girL,
her twO buttons iN the collar of schroedinger’s cat,

the world weather I can’t be without you,
I can not.

Pár fotek z poslední doby…

vymykající se realitě, nadskutečné.

Význam: TY


Na Broskvích soumraku jsem dělal od roku 2014…včera večer dokončeno, vyšly už ve sbírce Mísa vymyšlených ryb z roku 2015…ještě něco málo chybělo a zapadlo do sebe včera večer, Ty. Něco málo chybělo…není to něco málo, jen Všechno.

Teď bych chtěl Broskve číst, zkusit pár tónů… na nějakém vyjímečném, zvláštním místě, uvidíme kam mne život zavane.