SelfPub: In the pile of color have vospominaniiakh ...

In the pile of colored memories
Lost sincere feelings.
The trees and the heart is empty:
Neither love nor her suffering.
Don't rush to the tenderness of touch
Lips, that kiss lit.
We do not love more, not jealous
And do not whisper the name early in the morning.
And will not tremble voice in the conversation
The word gentle can't touch the soul.
One-sixth the particle sushi
Dried up when our sea.
No recriminations, pain and deception
Leaked drop by drop all that was.
Time quietly dissolved
If the wind of fog...