You are, and I will seem
With any movement of yours.
Dance, dance, I will not get up
Watch and believe your dreams.
I won't get tired of knowing one thing
Your soporific desire
You are definitely everything, and I am one
Your Ballet Creation ...
The jester who cannot move
Looking for the help of a puppet
He will offer his eyes
Under the hands of the executioner.
It will split in two
On their own, strangers, others ...
Will notice everyone, hurt everyone
For semantic smiles ..
And a person is born in real life,
In the reality of a black void
Where will he grab the edges
Your soul, your dream.
And he will see, hear, rave,
When fate is black and white Earth
Only he can measure everything in red,
Understand, speculate for you ...
The clown will paint over me
Your beautiful sleep.
Only after waiting for you
Black will wake up dumb ...
He's on the opposite sheet
Whispers to herself now
The verse of a madman. Yes,.
There is a time to forget about yourself ..
I notice the defenselessness of deception
When the eyes find you.
You are a strange, strange wound
I'm already dressing you in black ...
Into an uneven mesh cry
Love has transformed two.
We caught that moment -
Their deaf transparency ...
Someone's voice of a chrysanthemum
Reveals schema faces
Gloomy gray corners.
On the steps, reddish,
Removing a light whisper,
Someone in beige, incomprehensible,
Distorted, pockmarked, me.
Someone's timid quiet fear
Like a creaky staircase
The personal step disappears.
With thin shoulders
And with the eyes of amber,
Breathes in strange colors
Someone in beige, leaving.
Laughter, eyes went wild
Can secretly show
Like the purest start
Everything is ready to forgive you.
Self-portraits of Van Gogh
What's he next? And how free
Self-portrait devoid of beauty?
I have hung many paintings on the stage
Of my painful fate ...
I'm crazy let me see
How your hand cuts the canvas.
I'm ready to hate everything
I am your servant of yellow eyes.
Servant of Helpless Attractions
Another personal “I”,
Who can no doubt
Sell the vicious me.
Weaker, weaker, it hurts, it hurts
Notice your forbidden anger
When suddenly the ear is triangular
Replaces everyone with the word "bluff".
To a bluff of empty regret
Of my lost ideas.
In them, the life of a hammered moment
Does not reflect the essence of people.
Paler, paler, orange spots,
Breathe in my pity
I'm disgustingly pleased
Look at the images of the shadows
Severe personal deviations
They are traces of other people's persecution
Be brave, brave, don't give in
Death melancholy is heard.
You, dissolving, smile
A piece of torn canvas.
Wait ... stay ... Cold, Cold ...
The color of my love is humiliated
Your acrid hunger has penetrated me
I'm lonely, I'm covered in blood.
Dance of the winter swoop
Catches a whisper of silence
Shadows of light flight
Run away from the spring.
Flimsy sticky November
Play enough dreams.
The wound of laughter leaves
View of brown grass.
The gray ghost understands -
That the world is wrapped in scarves
The mannered embarrassment of love
He is ashamed of his plasticity.
Catch a constrained look
He's getting stronger, more painful.
Empty, noticed - yours
Afraid to become my desire,
It is subject to others
As a hidden, unnecessary consciousness.
Glassy, smoky, vulnerable
Our dance of white wine
Your look is attentively naive
Watching how she basked.