Faberge

< Mamai



... You then presses like in white body sheet,
the sheet rough letter "w» ...
You still do not know who was sitting at the rows of giant keys
typewriter destinies ... And it is clear also - all gone. Do not make up, and do not glorify.
Everything changed. Countries, century, city, place,
film meetings, partings, nights, beds ...
You are given so that the epithelium
does not carry out such signals already.
And a huge red sun hung on a bend,
Jaffa at sunset landscape ... What the hell ...
From memory convulsions muffled pops aorta,
and boys lazily flopping into the water
port tanned swallow the pier, from the board,
reflect the running time is not worse than chronometers Faberge ...