I will

< Hope Patrelyuk



thresholds, slopes transformed into century,
I too forever for a simple "yet".
my coffin is not knocked together, my branches hang
of wild wheat, built in a row.
is a series of built, I'll breathe.
I breathe and I will get in the way -
interfere with drunken Turks hampers hucksters,
interfere in any way innocent mice.
we will celebrate, pinning down the blood itself.
we want freedom in exchange for love.
I'm going to play until the pain in the teeth.
pain in the hands and to the pain in the ears.