poems by Mykyta Ryzhykh
1 the lonely grove grew for the dead here glass of grave drowned in died grass and everywhere red rederry instead green greenery
e-revista EgoPHobia - ISSN 1584-6210
1 the lonely grove grew for the dead here glass of grave drowned in died grass and everywhere red rederry instead green greenery
*** the blind dream will end this time with an endless night
*** Prostitutes are much preferable to spouses After all, according to tradition, immediately after the wedding, women are killed by sewing up their vaginas, and men are usually sent to war (War blooms crystal: war for men: forced homosexuality or forced homophobia?)
My boy my boyfriend says that he only falls in love with geniuses and I fall asleep in the crotch of a crossroads during silent rain drops speak of the important and insignificant as if about the unborn сhrist
*** You were not born yet, so sleep. You will be lulled by the winds of wandering on the rocks of the future.