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Spaghetti knots

Love in the cold

The bus cradles

me to sleep

while the city

yawns awake to

rain that drowns

the living and the dead

with tongues that

are never quiet hydrated

and mouths that are never

quiet full,

but always stinking

and always completely

empty even with

other people drizzling

in and out like the bus

that stops until I get off

only to get on again

when there is no rain

but no sun either.


Don’t believe anyone,

particularly anyone

who tells you not to

believe in anyone

for they believe they are right

and five minutes spent with them

where they choose walnuts instead of almonds,

white wine with red meat,

driving over a bike ride,

complaining, not admiring,

fighting, not enjoying,

anger, not contentment with the

walnuts, white wine, and car

will show anyone

how wrong anyone

can be.


I sometimes stick

cigarettes against my skin

after a hot shower,

punching out their lives

so that they

can feel my smoke,

or maybe it’s just mist

that disappears from the glass

and my body like

the heat of

love in the cold.

About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters. Follow my wordpress or my IG (@_kenkan)


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