around are running, snatching the remnants of food at speed. Bending, they squirm, betraying their own oaths for a gnawed bone, hung with tags, exalted by someone in glossy ones. Full of artificial charms, in search of applause from the right one. Many are too strong with the declared price, they run out of steam from the frequency of changing collections. Mystery is cheap. Funny, funny. Put on the first five to seven with friendliness. After that, it’s not the same, it’s not like that, you get bored, you want scarce, rare. Elastic, sharpened in looks. Confidence shines through, he feels so.
Five minutes before… Playful, jokes with kisses, indulging, eccentric, dancing in lace to French melodies, feeding on a smile from the cheeks of my relatives with unshaven hair. Waving, chirping incessantly. Trying on a dress, exchanging energy with the sun. Offended. Upset, did not smoothly switch to the right one.
At the moment… Silently, emerging for a click, to protect the frightened inside. The movements are abrupt. Words woven from coarse letters. The glass is shattered. Crumpled, dissolving the protruding impudence, trampled, mud-spattered from the latest collection of pomposity. Predatory sparks ignite offenders. The roar from within shakes even the stone ones.
Five minutes after… Looking around in fright at what has been created. She was not brought up in this way and not in order to listen to the base. Shaking off what he had heard, denying it, hastily picking up the torn remains. I don’t want to do that. So disgusting. So not me.
And a little later in the evening… Inside, flirting, spilling through the arteries, saturating the blood with warmth, the whisper asks for a little rudeness. Her lips are scarlet, passionate, silently begging for touch.
Slammed. “Count, yes, yes, yes… Hurry, please. Too rude. The dirt is covered with blackness, you need time to wash off. I was exhausted. They took away warm energy. The feathers were torn out. I’m flying to the clouds in another… in search of similarities. Tired. The strokes are uneven. Temporarily I do not allow someone else’s politeness. It hurts with the waves, and then at dawn it is easy again, I laugh, play around. I miss you… Do you plan to? How soon? I’ll drop the coordinates. Ocean. Warmth. Sun. Smile for me. I get nourished, it is required on a regular basis. I remembered – you love me. I want something pleasant and easy. I pledge to wake up with the first chirp, putting on sneakers with you in the morning, and then in an icy shower with hugs. I’ll make you real coffee with breakfast, I’ll joke around while indulging. I want it so carefree, polite. I miss the rare lightness.”
Templates
The first warm degrees. Morning. The murmur of early birds. Movements of arms, legs. Drops of sweat in a measured breath and a few exhalations. A walk inside the alleys, neatly trimmed, enveloped the turquoise fountain with rare crimson leaves. The smell of morning innocence. The velvet of the spring dawn. Freshness from the awakening of greenery. A shower chilling with vigor. The silence of early bakeries, cozy with their silence to madness. Colombian smells, enchanting smells. The crunch of a croissant crust, indulging with the magic of the taste of unmelted butter, adding the taste of parmesan, ham, greens. There are no superfluous ones. No one cares. The old ones are asleep. The roles were played, everything necessary was exchanged in a moment of hunger, mixing emotions. The future ones were not even laid down yet, braiding slender ones around their necks with a degree. Disheveled. They sparkle with delight and casual stupid jokes. They melt the stiffness. Compressed conciseness. Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sinking into the tenderness of feathers, snoozing comfortably and in moments snoozing. And what about the day? Full of new characters. With rudeness, sarcasm, outbursts, in order to cover the vulnerable inside with your palms. And after? Letting him in. Meeting. A handful of words. Crushing the last tube more often in an attempt to squeeze out a bit of happiness. As if wound up, repeating about peace inside, shuddering at every rustle, screech of the brakes of the past. Afraid to cross paths with the dark side of their own, losing a possible future in the moment. They turn away, paying one-time fees, there is no time for treatment, and doctors no longer give guarantees for a cure. Broken, and the repair is protracted, you get a little tired of constant donation. Let’s leaf through the next lace ones. In fact, they replace the templates of their predecessors, already tired, with birdhouses built in a hurry. Flirting with opposites, discovering the facets of carelessness. Rich. It smells of love. From the screen, on a walk, carbon copy words, actions are licked with similarities. Rarely by honesty, more and more often by seconds of mood. We are confident in slogans that have not been confirmed in practice. Walking the inner characters of different content, masking what was said earlier with unconsciousness. It would be funny to look at the conveyor, template stamping, diversifying only the color of the skin, hair, complicating the language, dots on the ball for placement. Changing in a whisper, fearing, they recognize, walking in the twilight their own inhabitants. The rules of the games are often similar. Falling in love was necessary in the early, without understanding the true rope weaves rotten by cynicism, which set the gears in motion. Outlining goals, creating similar ones in the future, more, but spreading their hands in confusion from their worthlessness. It turned out the way it happened, not being responsible for the quality. Nobody teaches education. Watering, weeding, only when there is free, At the moment, they lost the threads that bind, giving the reins of influence to the outsiders, when they settled their own soft ones. Uttered disappointments: “Excuse me” – are noisy by millions.
Slammed. “Count. Difficult. Did you miss me? Yes, everything here is mine. Announced. Pore. I’m flying to the next one. Do you not judge? It’s funny, your opinion is also important. Lack of necessary attention. Salty remnant of the ocean on the lips, aftertaste. Miss. Unbearable occasionally. More often surround you with the fuss of suitcases, lips, emotions, tickets with passports, in anticipation. Funny. I noticed that the higher the expectations, the deeper. They will be disappointed. After that, they will saturate the window with strained happiness in order to somehow beat it off. Duplicate. Template. The swings of my arms are uneven, I move. Changing pictures. Sleepy clouds, like a pet, faithfully follow me. One. Nothing to anyone. He is not responsible for anyone. It happens. But I want to immerse myself in you, pampering, kissing greedily, stroking, plunging my nostrils into my native smells. Kissing the stubble, whisper. Fly in. True, I missed you.”
Dusty
The violin is pitiful. The silence of the morning café. Colombian grains drive you crazy with their aroma. Porcelain thinnest containers, holding their breath with offerings. The crunch of the top crust of flour delights, and then soak up the receptors. The French notes are mixed. It’s time to be yourself. Early larks. Boredom envelops me. More than a dozen legalized joint thousands of nights. The funny thing is that no one imposed the peaks with goals, on their own. Exclusively spying on the environment with their values, life, cockroaches, to meet the level. Drawing from the lock, they climbed in their own way. Vulgar sighs on a huge walk, I get bored with my hands, lips, stereotyped movements. The boredom of cyclicity. Sometimes it was windy, stormy to the point of madness. Fattening the flesh of the inner characters, nourishing them freshly. Selfish? In any case, the boundaries of permissiveness along the way were subject to constant correction. Changing tactics, collecting cases of friends, with brainwashers. They were shattered, then reassembled and reassembled with the tips, glued. It spilled, seeped out, again silently squeezing the coral, climbing. They talked incessantly – in the hope of working, understanding, realizing, adjusting, pursing their lips into blood, yielding to circumstances. Helped? At the moment, like an ambulance, and then again with his teeth. They burned, stabbed into splinters, kicked, pouring degrees.
Paths of discontent with emotions. Shaking out their furious, predatory things, they lifted up a fluttering white cloth and surrendered to each other again, raking with torn palms. Licking streams of salty tears with the bristles of their tongues. Books are common, pages crease for the possibility of returning after. Funny. The past is in the past, but occasionally whitewashing
