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Wing of Pegasus

January 6, 2013


Wing of Pegasus

The black wings of night –
they receive me breath

White wings of day
they permit to forget

Green wings of forest
they do not give passages calmly

Mother’s affectionate wings
they protect me their warmth

Whore’s sweet wings –
– near at hand before jump in precipice

I – many feathers
I – wings – armed
I knock Pegasus hoof
In doors of soaring stable

Where fresh blood waits on me in trough
And the heap of hands chopped off away in manger

Treat nor the drop of inspiration


From → Art, Photography, Poetry

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