Lubomír Tomik
we are said to be just strangers in the gray garb of mundaneness,
I do not believe!
You,
are so other,
until the eyes hurt
what’s left of me?
Earth?
a surveyor mapping the dimension of desire for You,
I guess I recalculated,
isn’t that funny?
Bet a bank on one card,
which is not even in the package.
Midian Poet 