***

Drinking beer, making coffee,
live in happiness and love –
all these things I could imagine
if I didn`t became a dove.
It was July; date – the second,
seven minutes after eight.
I was running across the road,
something happened – flight away.
I was killed.
It was the last time
when I wore my flower skirt.
Tram was going to the future,
people saw my death and heard


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