The lips of the lily don’t lie
in the drama of my dream
the yellow yells soundless
in the lake
that lacks the continuity
the jaws of the flower
open by the sun
and close
by its disappearing
in one second
that sacks the sexuality
so the pith of the pitiful pit
swallows and spits me out
in the same time
I was borne
in the fragrant jail of July
and I flounder in the sticky jelly
of Her jealousy
19.06.05.
The water-lily
© Copyright: Владимир Микушевич, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112012300017
Свидетельство о публикации №112012300017
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