wrozlaw give me handshake and his lips being salty with extra-sise-tears
lithuanian villages catch the breeze,
quiet coast r empty
when i came post
(15's km stage)
when i get mess
read that
like that cost
i get lost
i get emptiness
when fucking boats will notice my cry
even my crying belong to you
and with the silence of all funerals
on warszawa's wet body
- i needn't the mess/age
i need the breeze
and your heart (atlantic ice)
***
i crying in the 2'th extra-beef
ice in my eyes
iron's taste on the tongue
billion reasons to stay
- all to hell
all to held and held
all to help
held. help
© Copyright: Юра Мальцев, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119080508524
Свидетельство о публикации №119080508524
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