Look at my palms

Along the cold borders of sadness
We walk barefoot
And then warm up with tea
And then we remember mom
And we mumble something indistinctly
And we swear it was the first
And I fall into these arms
Without faith.

And shoulders drooped
Braids are tied into a dead knot
And runs breaking, crippling
On stretched nerve cables
My memory, without the right of hope
to “forget”, to “erase”, “do not remember”
And tear off our clothes again
In the crowd of silence.

Under the heavy cover of night
You will not notice the eyes-stars
And no matter what was not very
And it doesn’t matter that it was late
And what is the most important word
Suddenly it turned out to be meaningless
Stumbling over and over
Oh drunken thoughts

And don’t guess anymore
what must happen one day…
And I’m falling… Just falling…
I want to learn to fly…

No matter…