Sometimes my throat hurts, but not so much, that it's a big deal. In places it's wildly boring,
MMXXIV
Sometimes my throat hurts, but not so much,
that it's a big deal.
In places it's wildly boring,
But if you weigh it up,
Then it seems not badly.
He was unrestrained
and utterly
depraved.
On the whole,
he behaved
infantilely.
Among his best friends –
a house spirit, and a satyr,
who've been living more than
a century, steadily
in the mezzanines
of battered
rented flats,
where there's no light, not a glimmer, and
it's dusty as hell.
And under a new moon
from tavern
to tavern
to drink blood
and take bites out of souls.
Or on a dare
to dive into
the otherworldly
world,
And sometimes
even worse than that,
somehow to drown
hopes
on the shore
of the nearest puddle.
Sometimes my throat hurts,
but not so much,
that it's a big deal.
He was for thousands of years
solitary,
and for the first time
woke up
expired.
And the place,
where the heart is,
tactfully keeps quiet,
hasn't beaten in a long time
and with no obvious
reasons
bursts apart
with the applause
of ringing slaps in the face.