Twelve Bashny.Net

< Misha Campfires



Do you really think that we are like ?!
What "image" and "likeness" are taken as the standard?
The similarity of the voids with silence, from which,
Paying in order ever went out,
Under the stars, slamming the door in the next dream?

You, however, all still believe in "time" and "too"?
Ha! Believe me, my brother!
Believe sister that similar meanings - It is easier to accept the idea of ​​doom,
Which we call a.

The glasses spilled future ...
Someone red and sweeter,
Someone passing, on the table,
Lashes lips kissing,
For the health of toast groan.

dance embrace tighter,
Whirling people whispering:
"Twelve ... twelve ... twelve ...», -
Silk falling down.

I let go of her fingers,
Lopa farewell glance,
Clap on the shoulder,
"Wake up," - say sympathetically.