I don't get all your messages
Your songs can lay dormant
In the back of my mind
Half swirled away
on the winds of no time
Like painted swimmers
Drowning in space
But I read all your poems
Like a greedy brat
Every word's a heart beat
Every blur a motion
Every brittle whisper
Kicking at my fate
Music and poetry you showed me
queen cat wet rat
Imbue my blood like whiskey
Sun flares in lipstick
I want to skinny-dip in that dimension
of viscous and florid harmony
And swim like a star in water
My infernal consolation
Bleeding in ecstatic modulation
Like a new born ripple
Cracking from its shell.
20.06.2016. Voykovskaya to Baumanskaya. Monday afternoon, Moscow.
(Image: Painted swimmers drowning in space)
https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/87/c4/f3/87c4f34da6bfd63fe76908e785304398.gif
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