Paris fits in my hand
From the top of Montmartre
Paris fits in my plate
Like an exquisite starter.
Only now when I’m broke
Paris fits in my pockets.
I say Paris and choke –
Nothing else fits my talking.
Paris fits me like gloves,
Soft and thin like my fingers,
Paris hates, Paris loves,
Paris fits human feelings.
River Seine fits its bed
Like saint water – its chalice…
But it can’t fit my head
Why I don’t fit in Paris.
paris fits in my hand
© Copyright: Маленькая В., 2006
Свидетельство о публикации №106011001409
Свидетельство о публикации №106011001409
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