Broken Jewelry.

Broken Jewelry.

Lubomír Tomik

It wasn't even like his City,
sweaty he watched himself from above,

She was kneeling on his neck,

gently, almost as if She had TOUCHED him.

PS: An unpublished poem for You from 2017, which did not go through the selection for the Bowl of Fancy Fish collection ... because it was too raw ... now is Her time, it has been waiting four years for this moment, you broke my neck again ... it's different for the first time , something changed.

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