Читать книгу Intermarcity - Кирилл Кошкин - Страница 2

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She is sitting and glowing in her entirety. All, all, all. With her bright green and blue eyes she will shamelessly tenderly pass through the stiff notes of the umbilical and will be ashamed. Shameless and tender as well. So, it seems like happened. Or just in the wind a spiderweave tattooed the branches connected. A trap with a naked moan. Still somewhere the belly is soft and white. Eat, eat. There will be much more. Press it, press it. Wet on the wet still slides gently. You’ll stop, and continue. The hand of your heart folded, you will dive, and behind the ears, the net, like on the hips, in weaving. Binding everything. Weaving and braiding the plait with ribbons of quiet joy. And emerges easily and ruffles, and touches without cunning. The crown trembles, sparkles, sways and flies white petals on a full flowering river and you fall into a green tattered swamp. You stumble in the grass ant and lie stretched out like before the war. Everyone in the light and so are you. Everyone slows down, slow down the minutes and so are you. Then he left everything, and went. The petals fly, weave, bind. Your smile on the bridge means that you can follow him. If you write now, then you will draw this later. Missed the beat of the heart, touching the knees – it means …