[ Version Française : ICI ]
☆ [ Artist ] Edward Pustovoitov
I do perceive almost nothing
that the warm wind through my fingers.
And now I hear almost nothing
That the cry of birds which undulate.
It is time for our reunion.
The Earth slowly ceases spinning.
’cause on me your eyes are settling
And my heart in metamorphosis
is flying far from the greyness.
Unblinkingly … you look at me.
Oh! What am I say, you see me!
Fatal and cruel of women
you penetrate so then my soul.
O delight! Then, you peel off me.
2016 © ManachePoetry