Rubai type

You look from under your forehead. Evil. It looks like an open fire.
Swim! In a stream of feces. Without a proper name. Sluggishly.
A broken branch or rather a shot one duck.
...Impenetrable sounds. Is it already morning?
Pull my ear. In the ear there is an earring, wax and a silver bell.
...Gloomy like a volume of Dos with coffee stains after a sleepless night.
The secret life sucks you in. Like, don’t look where it’s dry...
There is practically no life there. Or live only "bitches".
HE bought people for water! On empty promises of good weather.
And I was hooked right away...
..The pulse beat exactly three more times.
They said enough with the diagnosis of heart failure...
How did you get it, pointing to the moon circles under the eyes, to the fat
liver degeneration of the steatosis type.
With a recommendation to reduce the dose.
...I burn my tears with a candle.
To the sounds of adult speech. When we try to catch up with each other on the road to the predestination of death.
Do you prefer death in a dream to a dream that resembles death?
I'll be back on the fly, although I still have a long way to go.
...Don't show off - there's crap and lies all around.
Try to live, like standing sadly on the threshold of the house.
The body is not yet the most desirable thing you expect.
Any desire is vague. There is a moment in it.
Desire is always an escape.
You're exposing yourself...
Think about it! This point is approaching!
Like you invite her with the look of dilated pupils and crumpled panties...
Are you getting it? It's like rubai...