the sweetness [Theme]

The heart of a kind person, like a stunning Vanilla Cloud dessert, brings the sweetness of tenderness and warmth, filling the soul with pleasant emotions. As time is spent in his presence, a cozy cloud of warmth and light begins to protect the soul, creating an atmosphere of lightness around itself. Communication with such a person is perceived as a real pleasure, like an exciting journey, where every conversation brings true pleasure, and every communication fills the heart with joy and brings a smile.

I'm addicted - this sin is sweet to me.

Spring. 1920.

The four horsemen of the apocalypse meet between our lips, the disintegration of the world into atoms, when fingers slide over heated skin, reaching the garters of stockings, along which a gap spreads like a distorting snake, because thin threads, iridescent in the light of candle flame with a cold radiance, are not able to withstand skillful and powerful touches, like veins ringing with monstrous adrenaline when you find yourself in me. The sweetness of linden honey and the bitterness of wormwood juice, the constellations of blue on the skin - you taste me as if I were the doom of cyanide and sweet death, poisoning the body with spores of an unprecedented disease.

Because it's October again and perfume apples, cookies, a blanket and comfort, and so, day after day, our year is beautifully spun by someone there, from above.

He or it, I don't care about the rules at all. I just want coffee. Coffee is pure desire, ritual, symbol and addiction. I like to watch how the oily liquid pours into the cup, how the dark fills the white. I drink black coffee. The first sip burns with bitterness. The smell is precise, pointy. In a second, I feel how bitterness breaks up into dozens of notes: sweetness, sourness, woody and floral shades that fill every cell of the body with pleasure and penetrate into the very soul.

Many people are already writing about autumn, but I still want to compose songs about summer, weave fragile wreaths, collect fragrant herbs, let the scent of rain into the house, drink black coffee, write pages of texts, look for sweetness in blackberries and reflect sincere laughter in the smooth surface of mint. tea. How I want to hold on to this warm summer, take him by the hands and spin with him in order to enjoy the August days even a little more! Unpredictable, noisy, happy, serene, juicy and touching. With dimples on the cheeks. With the tenderness of a knitted sweater on the heart.

Has anyone ever been to the lavender fields? So, to dizziness, to loss of pulse? So that her aroma would later haunt in dreams, disturb the soul, forever excite feelings? Has anyone slept on sheets of lavender flowers? And so that in the garden, in the whole estate, only lavender? And someone remembers the sweetness of bright summer dreams, when a fragrant garland is above the canopy of inflorescences? Lavender, darkness, my obsession, your scent at night is particularly acute. July. To him, I hear the nightingale sings, and at this moment it seems to me that living on Earth is so simple.

The only sweet at the checkout that will not be tempted is domestic chocolate. Bitter, from which all the hormone of happiness was sucked out. When you bite him, you want to go to a rally.

It's strange how a kiss can even turn bitterness into sweetness.

Sweet or nasty?

The last love of a man is both the most bitter and the sweetest.

Yes, my cradle was in the library;
Dust, Babylon volumes, parchment, silence,
Novels, dictionaries, Latins and Greeks...
I, as in folio, was exalted then.
Two voices talked to me about life.
One, insidious, firm, said to me, "The world is a pie.
Dispel your appetite. At the cost of their efforts
You will know the sweetness of all that God has created."
Another shouted: "Swim in bottomless fairy tales
Over what is conceivable, over what measures the meter."
Ah, that voice sang, bayukal in strange caresses,
Scary and exciting, like winds from the embankment,
Like a phantom who came out of nowhere.
I said, "I'm going!" and that's me then.
Suddenly I felt the pain and the fate that is everywhere
I carry now with me, I carry always, always...
I see new constellations of diamonds
In the blackest abyss of dreams, behind the appearance of things;
Slave of clairvoyance and martyr of ecstasies,
I drag with me indestructible snakes.
And it has been since, as a prophet, wandering;
In the deserts and seas, I, as a prophet, am alone.
I laugh in mourning, I cry on holidays
And I find the beauty in the taste of bitter wines.
To me, the facts seem like some kind of noisy lie,
Counting the stars in the darkness, I get into the moat...
But the Voice whispers to me, "Keep your dreams, crazy!
Clever people do not know such beautiful dreams..."

But in the universe, along with bitterness, there is also sweetness, and the name of this sweetness is oblivion.