I know this is not true. It can not be.
But I believe as a child that has flowers with fern.
With the moonlight twists on them golden bee
And love for me is life, and not a scientific term.
Here springy under my feet emerald moss
The moon on the face of heaven is like a mole
My river draws the mercury stream. I was on cross.
I'm choking, or elated melancholy howl.
I see very distant stars, but not beyond my nose.
I hear the breeze, but I can not hear your words.
I pierced my hand, oblivious to the blood. Rose.
I like it sift the petals. This is not my worlds.
In my worlds of live rabbits and cats who smile.
Even there I'm looking for you, knocking my poor feet.
Why can not I get you with me? I'm here, while ...
Dots running the show. Without you I'm not complete.
It can not be
© Copyright: Дарья Бутакова, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112040404589
Свидетельство о публикации №112040404589
Рецензии