у сонця
у сонця прозорі очі, у сонця немає очей, я не знаю, що воно хоче і чому погляд лоскоче... ⠀ забілені впалі плечі з рубцями від пензля. ще зовсім трохи не вечір, але я трошки вже мертва. ⠀ котися у дірку з медом! котися в мідну солону воду! і вже не тримають нерви, і вже гарячкує свобода. ⠀ а там завершиться коло, закуває плісняві рубці. і забите до ситості воло, і починати проходити знову, і тиха рідка вперта промова йде до чорта. дивні людці! ⠀ і мідна рідина хай розчинить! і мідна рідина хай потопить! може, остання втрата причини... може, остання втрата свободи... ⠀ із поезії весни 2021 р.
2021-04-17 11:38:00
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