Wind dancing Bashny.Net

< Patri



wind dancing, salsa dancing tired by the sea.
Touch the pen to me by the neck, below and away from sorrow.
You hear the whispers? do not say anything. not a word, not a sound,
your hand will tell everything without words. this separation.

you touch the sand, stones dissolved in space.
we breathe seems to be in unison, but bare.
beautiful? I asked. you did not answer, thinking.
I left. as the smooth surface of the water haggard.

stones breathe melancholy, I stray.
you never know what is modest and what is not modest.
Take me, wrapped in a coat and I can
lick your fingers, if the chest accidentally fall asleep