We'd get our coats in Venice in the hall,
we'd wait our queue to leave the round building.
The air outside is visible and yielding,
when touched by timid strokes of the fall.
We'd catch a boat and on our way to tavern
we would discuss the principles of life
and how a year here goes for five,
whilst echoing from walls as in a cavern.
We would exclaim against the mighty arches.
We'd dive in deep to soul search for reasons
and find nothing else than changing seasons,
old photographs and paintings, lights and darks.
There, under waterline of what is known,
we would be happy, fear would be a goner.
I'd never find my guilt or shattered honor
and you would never feel, that you're alone.
The Unhappened
© Copyright: Артем Хабипов, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115082206424
Свидетельство о публикации №115082206424
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