i let a сrowd through the gates
of my lids and of my mind,
sieving being through my hands,
back into the terms divine
hear the slightest grains` echoes
in my spaceless grateful gape,
can you feel a thousand dekkos
looking plainly through your cape?
can you listen like an ear-plate?
can you watch alike a screen?
would you judge and estimate,
if you are completely clean?
come to me and tell me nothing,
stay afar, be everheard,
make me laugh, be everlaughing,
stay a child to be taught.
whiteness
© Copyright: Талвир, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112070908858
Свидетельство о публикации №112070908858
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