Wish just could drop dead preciously
Neither in cancer infirmary,
Nor in a stinking WC ,
Down-and-outers are staling in.
Not dossed at municipal charity,
Being scalped across with a bistoury,
Spitting blood out in reality,
Smoking away whole the history…
Wanna die in a snow-white flowerage
Under starry arch, embraced by the wind
Getting whispers of verdure herbage,
Smelling misty fog, breathing it all in
By the river of sweet oblivions …
То dissolve in the sky so silently,
Listening to wings clapping papillons …
Turning dreamed so lightly, transiently.
Smiling with Giaconda’s allegories
Neither writhing out scared and jealously…
Nor erasing the lifetime memories…
Wish just could drop dead preciously.
© MVS