Prose dedicated to my beloved man Turgut
I do not know what's wrong
Me very hard on the heart
Because I love you very, very
I breathe your, I live your
You do not exist and there is no me.
No life in me, no nothing.
My heart is longing for you suffer
I am grieving and conceal
I as a snowflake on your hands
Dying slowly and quietly.
Свидетельство о публикации №110031903034