Back
with staring
and heart freezing
illusion in lethargy,
and vinegar on the wounds,
dreams that passed by,
eyes that undertake the flight ...
... and no ink in the ink.
Back
with gray to the soul
rejection and hat.
And a kiss of courtesy
-of those who know nothing, "
and pain pupils,
and stiffness in the wings ...
... life in an ashtray.
I do not want to return.
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