I like the cold, reveling in you,
And recognition so openly.
You understand have felt this hurt, too,
Just put your lips to my lips only.
The sun does not warm as it was then,
When we met once on a summer day.
And our lives are like from the song Stan,
Now your eyes are like clouds of gray.
A mystical constellation night,
Like mysteries of unexplored worlds.
Attract and beckon my tired mind,
I am a stranger to the universe a cold.
Mysteries of the dark poet
© Copyright: Александр Хой Усачёв, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117090503153
Свидетельство о публикации №117090503153
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