Blueprints Bashny.Net

< Misha Campfires



For many years,
Left of youth subtle lies,
I'm lying in the corner of your drawings.
On a scale of one to one, in full growth - there Set foot size, shape of the eyes, hair color
. The more you breathe, the tone of your voice,
From what you say something,
How to apologize when guilty,
Mad as shouting.
How do you change the
In beastly drunk.
As the smoke from the bamboo yearning,
With idleness hookah.
Your suitcase in the corner, lined by
Up to the last detail,
Before the hair dryer, lipstick,
A spare set of keys.
Togo, who finally threw me,
You vynyrnesh somewhere in Paris, in the morning asleep.
Tired of caresses, wet with tears, the light from the lies.
So I do not say,
Look - so eager to drawings.