Читать книгу In the Language of Scorpions - Charles Allen Gramlich - Страница 13

ABRADED BY LIGHT

Scorched and poetical,

abraded by light,

I lay in silence,

loud with whiskey

on sands of lost harmonics,

and the dreams in me

are like lepers,

like plague-blackened flowers.

they rise like wolves,

sweeping over the borders

of my thoughts,

dying out in gutters,

empty and void,

wasting out their life,

in blood.