The doorbell sings at night. Сome true.
That lines I find in your obscure
Foretold me veils of limbs and lungs.
A wings I've always found black
In colored face the mark or spend
It's time in a fog of alcohol and smoke
But milk I've soured for your palm hands
The river's taken in the air and dance
With it. I saw it yesterday in grid.
07.01.12
The doorbell sings at night come true,
© Copyright: Дант Лаорти, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112071205607
Свидетельство о публикации №112071205607
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