я написала стихотворение по-английски
это странно
читатьthe I of spring
is a woman with a shadowed face
full of eerie grace
bowels filled with flowers
and a crystal windpipe
she's looking at me with her apple eyeballs
asking when I will finally get used to the framework
well, at least we built it together
систо — круто
а в городе среда абразивна