Genur.art

An old man crosses the threshold With long boots, with long beards The shine of your necklace is golden On the cold slab where it drained Your shirt and your hunter's saddlebag My old and invisible Avôhai My old and indivisible Avôhai Blurred and bright fog In my brain, sun clots morning amanita And what a transparent curtain around me If I say it's well known You say it's even worse But it's worse than the planet When you lose the sunflower It's the brilliant third In my grandmother's fingers And I was never afraid of the gate again Not even the companion who never slept alone Avôhai Avôhai Avôhai The marsh crosses the dust actually exists A lighter tone in the paleness of these people Pairs of eyes so deep That embitter the people they look at But who drink your life, your soul When you send It's the eyes, it's the wings Grandpahai hair In tourmaline stone And in the yard of the plant I grew up I flew at dawn And in the doomed crater I fell silent And if I was silent it was out of sadness, you remain silent for the sake of being silent But he remains silent, he only speaks when I tell him to Searching for conscience with fear of traveling Up to the middle of the comet's head Spinning around in the improvisation game Interrupting, I follow the straight line I have the right word so the doctor doesn't complain Avôhai Avôhai Avôhai Avôhai<lora:wegg:1.0>