But in the morning, the mail sorting ...........

1

2 gift girl awkward,

In whose veins the blood of the twilight,

What a strange new thing

Syskat? I wondered again and again

In the morning wandering the shops trendy

Not knowing how to uncover the secret

And the question - "What do you want?"

Give a plausible answer.

Perfume? Her breath heather

Dressed from head to toe,

What earthly fragrance

I cater to the right, was able to?

To showcase the dusty antiquarian

I was not even approach:

Any poet (a shadow of a nightmare!)

There could buy something.

"Flowers" ... A little closer to the dreams and shadows.

And bell zabryatsal:

Past cane on the stairs

I went down down - in the basement.

There was an entry under the guise of cramped,

Deceptive dim mirrors,

The clerk was very accommodating -

(That's just not cast shadows).

What violets in ribbons of red

And gilding orhidey?

Other colors and unprecedented

I wish I could send her.

I even rose bored

A better syschetsya barely eh ...

But there, on top?

- Asphodel. 

In your basket ... black ... Carte postale,

Where Rondo languid - in two colors,

(The vagaries of each curl ...)

..Slova Tenderest greetings

I jotted down diagonally.

Such a gesture is worth something ...

Jewelers - at the same time -

I chose a gold ring

With pomegranate, dark as wine.

That day, I was pleased with himself,

And evil sense to play ...

I was mad or ill -

I understand perfectly.

I called you to live burning,

And the palate, tart word "sin" ...

                      ****

But in the morning, mail sorting,

I look forward to the accounts of those shops.

          @ Elena Chudinova

by Monica

Cartier

by  Fabian Perez Paintings