Night Filter Poem by Zyw Zywa
Night Filter
Under the night filter
I lie awake
in hibernation
the blossoms on my skin
dusky grey, luckily
I think that, still can think
something, that's all
and the itching continues
to plague me in my head
where I can't reach it
I can only wait
until it is dissolved
and I feel again
like having cake, luckily
I can bake it myself
when I have the energy
and my thoughts
find the words again
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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8/28/2026 4:12:40 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
