Absinthe весна 2006

You and me are two drops of absinth
And we don’t know our destiny
We are dying in blue flames’ embraces
Filling air with our passion & tears

If we fall in a silver cup-trophy
We shall kiss the champion’s lips
Flowing into his mind like prophets
Showing new world under the eyelids

While they pour us from the tight throttle
We make love with the sugar on spoon
Licking glass through the sound of their voices
We will dance in the waterlust soon

Or some person, that thought, we’re evil
Pours us in his madness on grass
Cursing us, calling us the green devil
Melting us in the gravel ground mass

We will fill it with our bitter will
Nearby stem’s roots will take us in
These seeds are not going to windmill
They will bring us right back to absinth

And again we are inside their minds
And again we are muses and gods
Bittersweet inspiration of flight
They are sentenced again by their words…