свобода Свобода - это когда грызешь веревку зубами....

freedom
Freedom -
this is when you bite the rope with your teeth.
Freedom -
salt sheets wrapped around the body
new victory, tormented by the porridge of confessions.
Freedom -
elevator noise at night
in the kitchen - light, not from a candle, why? -
just for reading books.
Freedom -
it's when you're nobody's
in nothing, nowhere, lower, nowhere,
never, never.
Freedom -
it's a wooden pole
breaking hands in height
seven meters and a little more
it's sweat on the forehead, on the temples,
this forgotten word "forget"
it's a yes smile
it's emerald purity
and the question: - Why are the letters along
white sheet black?
- Freedom,
thank you, dear!
You prick me fingers, spoiled child:
you sting the bend of the shoulder, and
not whispering, you whisper words
ringing in the air of everyday life
become eternal week-end
between you and me.
And who cares what you are
having been in my hands
made you want to forget?
I'm going crazy.
What test are you from, Freedom?
I crown you, Darling!