Paints grim

«At morning dirty fingers tousled illusive hair.
  cry from the greedy over eyelashes.
  adjusting careful paper streamers in skilful palms.»

«Rainbow can be for all of you.
  Because it's beautiful like the See of Japan.
  Apart from new day creation.»

«You don't see the black.
  In spite of  that, you are cunning and don't close your eyes at night.
  So, don't close them at all.»

«Motive of tight embrace scraps of myself wasn't came in handy remained unclear.»

«Rush inhaled another's life in old layers of plaster and newspapers with sudden gesture.
 Copper. It was possible to count flowers on wallppapers on stopping beating of heart.»

«By another stopping beating. Let's all will be frigging, that is not sand. And let's will be ashes
 all our slippery and musty. A stone betrayed a stone. And on the pottery  is distinctly visible
 a track of milk lips.»

«Your Majesty Sky, I need the embryos of unborn letters. On the tongue, as black-breaking
 smile of sour screwed-up eyes.»

«Desolation is in the hairless fingers of unreal. Categories of the faded hands of yesterday's.
 The stifling summer stickily stuck up moustaches rubber and fingers.»

«Inexorable paints of the future. Spiders in the cradle of window apertures. Entrust to the slug
 with the hardened fingers of yesterday's your soft neck vertebrae.»