Elinushka. Morning, like milk thick ... (№ 441409)

The morning is like a milky thick veil, smoothly covering the viscous glossy night with a light beige foam. Whether it's clouds or the breath of a drink brewed by our senses on the awakening solar fire. A breath of wind - and yesterday's sunset embers become crimson scarlet again, a moment passes and the magic of the night flows smoothly into a coffee cup, leaving an insinuating trail of tart aroma with a characteristic spicy bitterness and a bouquet of candied citrus fruits, merged with drops of buckwheat honey, pecan nuts and dark chocolate. A light breath extends the sky exactly as far as the current one can fit in it. The rays shift quietly behind the window glass, afraid to disturb the living magic in the thin snow-white palms of porcelain, it is in them that magic and mystery, depth and something new that has not yet happened are born. Lips freeze on the rim, as if the cloud finds a secret orbit at the highest point of gravity. The dance of silk drops flowing into a smooth and light smoke. All the concubines of the world will not be able to express this transparency, weightlessness and harmony of the silence of the night and the tonality of the day with their skillful bodies. A white cloud of foam settles with a newly born milky-pearl pearl on awakening feelings, leaving at the bottom a thick palette of future twilight, keeping secrets, images, visions. Light clouds and tart thick, and between them, in someone's palms, coffee life.