debris Bashny.Net

< Leah Altukhova



sun splinters in the wine glass ...
what is there about us has not told?
It seems to be a couple, and not like a couple.
Can I be happy? and I can freely?

hiding her eyes and laughing through her tears.
hands at his sides, in the corners of a run.
slowly melt like an icicle in the glass.
should perish, and recall almost.

frowning, my strange and complex,
Only here live monosyllabic rhyme.
The choice is simple, just pull the string - puppets will dance, and I'm through the gate ...

there is a dark forest of our memories,
believed - no more wandering
thought ...
do not think the women.
no matter whether our world is restless?