"We liked smoking at dawn.
And waiting for 11 am, because
All the wine
in the house
have suddenly been over." -
I could write about us.
But I wouldn't.
Because we have different biorhythms.
I loved Yesenin, Pablo Neruda and Arthur Rimbaud,
Well, you didn't love anyone -
not even yourself.
But for me it was always not important.
Everyone loves summer,
but everyone hates the heat.
I'm honest: I've been hating this time of year
For about 10 or 12 years.
I can hear the rumble of thunder
And every time I hope it's raining,
But it's just the neighbor's air conditioners dripping.
You know how much I love thunderstorms,
And the men of the element of water attract me.
But I am the earth,
And that's why I love the material.
But when you're writing,
Only toast with cheese, coffee and cigarettes
Are important -
And I'm already happy.
Speaking of happiness:
you have an amazing talent
for making all your women unhappy,
I'm the unique exception -
Because when we were together,
You gave me the happiness of love,
And when breaking up –
The happiness of creativity.
But even now, as many years ago,
I'll choose the latter again.