Sylwia Gorak

Sylwia glides from her own eyes,
the whisp of the whisperer.
You get this I realize,
of this I am sure.

96 Friends,
we have that to share.
To think it more,
is more than I dare.

I only embrace,
the empty you leave behind.
Your glare is weakening,
what’s left of my mind.

The sound of her gaze,
draped in waves of black.
The distant echo of a wish,
with the last name of Gorak.



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