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And then he embraced his wife, and she, surprised, seemed young and beautiful in that unshaven stooped mirror, which she thought was once and for all cracked.
Stay friends.
You have not even suggested this.
You had better go.
And that’s all.
Without words.
Do not describe.
I can not talk.
I do not know what to say

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to you.
Do something crazy, what would you believe mine? No, i guess.
It makes no sense.
It makes no sense to say something, I still madly love you, but I think I did everything wrong.
How to explain to you what is happening in my soul, if you do not want to listen? You can’t understand me.
Or do not want.
I often do not understand myself.
I know only one thing.
My heart is beating.
And it knocks, beats the rhythm for you.
How much is he still knocking? Maybe a century, or maybe just a short moment.
Who knows.
Rain on the street.
These are my tears.
Outside, thunder and lightning.
This is my condition.
Sadly drooping are trees.
I don’t know what to do either.
I can give my soul, but you do not need it.
My heart wants to break out of my chest.
It’s alive.
It is trying to tell you that it still loves you.
You do not believe.
Breast as if squeezed in a vice.
Terrible pain.
And I do not want to continue this story.
Live the memories of you.

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Why stir up the past.
Bitch? Cynical bitch.
You? Not.
Looks like I’m becoming her.
I want to tell you.
Do not take for the teachings.
Sometimes, when a person loves madly, he is ready to move mountains.
Often he makes mistakes without noticing them.
This is all because rose-colored glasses happily dangle in front of our eyes.
Because the world seems beautiful and happy.
You do not notice anyone around except for e.
ABOUT! Deity! Such idolatry! You do not notice your shortcomings, and the breakdown of the mood towards yourself is perceived almost with gusto.
You can even say, condescended grace.
But sometimes you have to be able to forgive.
Forgive those ridiculous nonsense that occur.
For what? To save us.
In order not to give the world another angry creature.
or one more death.
Yes, everyday life and stupidity kills love.
So soon? It seems that I have already confessed to you that never before in my so different life did I love a girl.
There were, if cynically expressed, creative experiments.
Soul requested something new and unusual.
Nate, get it.
Wow! How is it.
Right on the head.
A stone.
No, not on the head, right on the brain.
There, inside oh-oh-oh.
Even look scary.
Heh, how gentle we are, right, Anna Karenina.
I enthusiastically gumkayu and with delight I sniff my nose.
Well, you paid attention to me.
She stroked.
against wool.
You are happy.
Much had time.
I did not have half of what you may have experienced.
No one has ever painted my portrait, I did not devote poems.
Men did not raise a panic if I disappeared for three days.
There was not much.
Much has happened.
Pain and fear.
Death and birth.
Friends and cargo-200.
That was what happened.
This is my pain.
My heart lives by it, not yours.
But love.
It was.
Gentle and romantic.
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