Book: The Part Of Improvisation. Page 5

You do know how to write letters. You delicately weave words and plucked the thin fingers, the keys of the human senses. But over time, the range of emotions and are a bit more complex, convoluted, bizarre, charming harmonies vainly hidden under a raised empty. And no originality, no beauty will not save us from relentlessly Stripping of the soul, which is full of the usual yellow pages, dyr read out the pieces of your life casual, flowing down the muddy stains of the words in a dirty, dull, bottomless pool of oblivion. But sometimes, very rarely, a word game turns into something more, in the game sense, the game of life.

The soul is the wall, to which we leaned back to stand.

Don't become a God, deciding who is able to love and who is not, what is the soul and what color should be life. Stay person. Because to be a man among the endless gods who already know everything about everybody, see through any soul and have the right to decide for everyone - it is much harder, more difficult, but... correct, I suppose.

Even if you think your opinion is the truth, don't you dare, don't you ever cut someone else's soul. Leave everyone the right to love as he does.

Let the quiet rustle of the falling leaves will be the accompaniment of our laughter, let in the resulting puddles new heavens reflected our eyes, let the outgoing sun and cold clear air will be an occasion for two people to share the precarious comfort of the apartment.

Kiss me in the eye. When life changes around when the trail of losses behind erases stains trace when old friends past and phone numbers, sogrevaya autumn evenings become simply a set of numbers. Kiss me in the heart. Burn away from inside this aching longing, revive the soul charge accidental love. The scalpel of mercy open the nascent universe of contact. When the window is cloudy and gray, when the cough prevents sleep, when the unmade bed breathes desire and passion, only fatigue. Kiss me by heart. Kiss me through. The curtain of the window, sit on the floor and watch through closed eyelids, inner tenderness. How is eternity. In the dim light of the apartment we are born again. Kiss me...

You and me. Me and you. Between us - the Gulf. There is nothing between us. From the ceiling the rain is pouring, the walls vibrate to the sounds of the waltz, the wind hit the window, the floor is breathing in time with the movement of the stars. And two statues, absorbed all the peace haywire of the universe, we froze. You and me. Me and you.

My life smells like apples. Almost invisible, sweet, drunk aroma, circling the head. The smell of the knowledge of good and evil, the smell of fall. The scent of passion and innocence, the smell of the ripe fruit of the soul. I smell like apples. I smoke and smile in the window, I fed birds bread, soaking up skin last summer, I fed a wild lonely souls odd words, throwing on the shoulders of sadness and watching the leaves fall off the tree. I laugh, a light hand at the opening of the harvest season. Hunting season. I greedily breathe the air, I sniff, listen, I'm looking for... And the anticipation of the wave down the back, and the movements are deceptively soft, and predatory narrowed pupils, and faster and more furiously beating heart... You smell like apples.

Hold me, and let the wind and stars fall endlessly, even new worlds are born and burn the ancient gods, even... But between our bodies, hidden silent embrace, the one that by its very existence justifies everything.

Kinship in spirit is felt much more acutely than the skills of passion.

The warmth of the heart - not a metaphor but a quiet reality, flowing hand.

Sometimes harder to find than to lose. Find in the eyes of love is indifference. To find trust - limb. Find in the verses is a lie, they see themselves as desperate.

Under the big top, the air becomes hot. The skin becomes sighted.

But one has only to fall... And the sea beneath you will explode with a spray of shout, a huge cramp trepyhnutsya ancient horror, in the rapidly cooling air, blending your body with the infinity eyes, hands, faces, other bodies.. one has only to drop.