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Old 10.02.2005, 18:32   #1
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I am flying dangerously low.

My shadow stains the broken angles of unconscious city.
Numb, icy fingers scrape the paint off passing souls.
Blue tears burn through the clouds to make sky bitter.
I sift through silver leaves of grieving, speechless fall.

I drop my watercolor moon on roof of crawling night,
I lose my strings of stars in narrow passes of this dream.
Black net of winds is calm and waits for me to fight.
My smile taints rustling silence of the brooding trees.

Your open window welcomes foreign air of sadness,
I slowly move to touch your life, I need you to remember me.
I see you closer than before, through silky gauze of darkness.
My breath is on your last words, off to the light of sea…

I am flying dangerously low.

December 2004
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Old 10.02.2005, 19:01   #2
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You're flying dangerously low...

Is this the dream making you get down from the sky onto the earth, into the city stained with sweat and blood, the unconscious city, the city of crooked mirrors, what makes you fly so dangeroulsy low- the fleeting image of the one seen through the open window... and you're flying dangersouly low and there's the risk of falling, speechless onto the ground, your body numb and cold, and unremembered...

blue tears, the bitter sky, beautiful
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Old 11.02.2005, 15:55   #3
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I am not much in symbolic poetry. But it's touching. Many thanks and sincere respects!

Quote:
I am flying dangerously low.
...Far from flying high in clear blue sky
I am spiraling down to the hole in the ground when I hide... (c) R. Waters. "The Final Cut".
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Old 14.02.2005, 03:01   #4
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Shushanika, Reckon - спасибо.
Next time - different language...
P.S. символизм не люблю в прозе, но в поэзии...Poems just become more nuanced and subtler and...lighter
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