I am dying to touch
From your hands,
And the body goes crazy.
I so want to see you...
I do not know how to tell you about it.
You give me the breath of Life.
This short moment,
Two hours of happiness ...
How is this possible? ...
To lose yourself only from touching
And the smell of sandalwood, at your hands.
I cry I sing when you're around,
All this silently and my soul sings.
And every time - you leave ...
I just can not -
I need to tell you
About that I feel.
And let you go ... maybe.
It’s better than uncertainty.
And let it only work for you.
You gave me the joy of life
Warmed my soul unnecessary fragments
In their hands.
Gena, about you. 2018. Massage can be like that.
Latest stories of the author
And one more May, singing of birds,
A riot of life.
And another may -
He's like a cry into the void.
I try to forget
Every day is your name.
I'm trying to spill,
White light - in the dark.
You erased yourself long ago
Our memory and nights.
Why is it in me
Is the rage of pain burning?
This is stupid, pointless,
Rhymes and lines.
It's may dawn
This heart hurts.
Do not break each other,
Brutally, mindlessly.
After all, it is possible only once
Among the spring plains,
You look in your eyes
You will love madly.
But you will understand it later & nbsp ...
Read more →
A riot of life.
And another may -
He's like a cry into the void.
I try to forget
Every day is your name.
I'm trying to spill,
White light - in the dark.
You erased yourself long ago
Our memory and nights.
Why is it in me
Is the rage of pain burning?
This is stupid, pointless,
Rhymes and lines.
It's may dawn
This heart hurts.
Do not break each other,
Brutally, mindlessly.
After all, it is possible only once
Among the spring plains,
You look in your eyes
You will love madly.
But you will understand it later & nbsp ...
Read more →
You know, it happens like that. She lived all her life honestly and almost innocently. In her eyes, even by the age of 35, sometimes a kind of childish innocence, astonished-enthusiastic view of the world, flared up. You probably met in life such a bit strange and of course slightly aged girls-princesses. Do not laugh, I understand, they are an endangered species of women), but they still occur, really. Typically, such a type is fatally lucky for moral monsters and scammers. Nothing to do with it. When a person's heart is open ...
Read more →
Read more →
His name was Eugene and he was a programmer. He was a man — rather tall, dense, with a long mane of hair and a beard over his shoulder. Description of course colorful and weird, like all IT specialists and programmers. They seem to live in their own special world of html equations, formulas, incomprehensible scripts and numbers ... We met at the dawn of dating sites. One of the first was just MAMBA. We talked for a long time in a friendly way. Eugene had a rather sweet sense of humor, and the then communication in ...
Read more →
Read more →
Chevy something your poetry hurts me no joke.
Reply
Thank you, I am pleased. Poems strange thing come themselves when they want.
Reply