i can swallow the space
raking up with both hands
stranger vagabond
does it make sense
where i am the time changes
and things transform into voices
wrapped up within creations
materialized by mistress
still will be roughness
moon mom constantly moves
between the proof
in the end of the conoid
sparkling stars and barking dogs
merge gently, poured
bottle hoots through white waters
i do not need pronouns nor truth
some time miss each others circles
next level chance
hope won't happen
with all of us
vagabond
© Copyright: Екатерина Зорина, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111022100974
Свидетельство о публикации №111022100974
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