Today we have a sad mood. And when it is sad - the poems of Maxim Scherbakov are perfectly stacked on it. Very nice and very piercing.
In dreams of warm seas and living corals, your childhood passed in the county Ust-chill of the sea canceled the corals stole Clara everything turned out not because in the film not as in the book you sleep something like because in three shifts pashchi swath then from the pressure of the tablet patch And somewhere they smoke the transparent soup inherent and somewhere in the surf boat paper jumps behind a thin glass then one winter then the whole world deployed the gray-haired grudges you are waiting for that they are about to be pollinated by the spring and do not polne And it is not necessary to just and joy that to extract a magazine in which the impossible boy and the island of his distant and impossible instant longing of the heart and the island of his distant and impossible instant longing from the heart go on a decline in scattered so as a smile to change soon and your dairy teeth as pearls are exposed in it the lagoon of blue is incorrectly and in these dreams falling asleep in a cooled bath with shampoo from falling out with a fresh water you lie on the bottom like a silent centenary stone you grew up Vendie and the Peter is not interesting for him eternal oh flies the sharply green-eyed flies just not for the force and not for money as a dream switched in the morning in the fast phase as a dream about your snow-covered incorrecePosted by: http://mack-seem.livejournal.com/