There’re Chilean wines on the table,
There’s Argentinian summer outside.
If you want, I'll leave you.
Do you really want me to do it?
I'm glad to be wrong:
My heart isn’t empty yet.
A thin needle is biting into,
Art enters the veins.
The words are pouring out
And are sweeping away
Everything on the way.
“My darling, you see,
You still need me!”
My boho dress,
There're bracelets on my hands…
Horizons are seen poorly
Through the smoke of a cigarette.
One day you said,
That eternity wasn’t required,
For several years of rest
The fee is too high.
The feeling doesn’t need much
To be weathered and cooled down.
... And on the table there’re lonely
Bottles of Chilean wine.
Argentinian summer
© Copyright: Анна Сергеевна Васильева, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №121072400834
Свидетельство о публикации №121072400834
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