Bird mountain

My feet are swaying to the extermination next to the bird-mountain, studded with the rivets of surgical scars, where the old forest once dreamed of an even fuller and calmer harmony, a happy fulfillment: At most a grumpy bush, if you look at me! Offended, pregnant Sisyphean gorge resumes their orphaned tears with offended clouds: Abandoned, heavenly continents. Twilight's red blood kiss is still haunted by a dying, pisla sundial!

Semi-rich pasture, half-built concrete Atlantis — plenty. I continue to walk and take my feet, the attention that has moved far away involuntarily wanders, and it hovers here and there in the shadows of pasts: I have seen a beautifully decorated celebratory girl. There was an immortal emotion on his red lips, like a ripe and irrevocable cherry!

But now, like me, the departing one is moving away, because he himself is certainly a conflict avoider - he looks at my beautifully, understandingly barren, magpie-legged face, the year rings of my suddenly silver-turned hair. The unfaithful lover, by saving himself, makes a bargain, betrays him.

And between the vague crossfires of exploratory glances, two pounding, innocent hearts dream of the risk of a rechargeable, earthly universe! - Twilight haze is still simmering and struggling on a soft hilltop; The time of the singing birds may have been sacrificed forever, and the beautified Time will not deceive either - but in the solid and uncompromising captivity of the valleys there, the immortal transcendence still remains patient, secretly longing for Someone!