Intro.. Draw... Poems.. Today is January 15, 2011 and the truth is that I remembered Drahuša, so I thought she was actually my first love, because there are always several of the first, because we are opportunistic bastards and especially where the females wander, there is an eternal war on all fronts, everything can always be different: coincidences, seconds, decisive moments: that send us in certain directions - how good it is that no one knows everything. (Or I'm not a good man at all.) They had a window into our garden - a view in our vineyard and our scrubby apple trees and had a daughter, she was much older than me - I was about seven - and she was already learning to be a shop assistant or a tailor and she was a tough guy. Maybe I'm a little submissive since then, it is exciting to feel the superiority - that is so high, that admits no doubts, just carries you on hands (puts you on her knees .. no no, that's another story) and knows well where. We had a secret, once I caught her sitting in the window to our garden and smoking, yes, our secret was cosmic - it was cigarettes Mars. Apparently, I did not captivate her with my excessive maturity, but maybe a little bit later - I will hope for it now. Especially I didn't betray her - then we went cycling together to Park, she had a purple bike with a carrier on which you could stand and grab her knitted shoulders. When we found some bike for me, she pedaled slowly aristocratically before me, by no means I dared to overtake her, already when I went next to her - I admit: I indulged that delight several times - I felt too blissful and something tickled in my belly. She took out Mars in the park and we talked - I asked: how should I walk , to breathe, eat, listen, and nodding - how the goddesses recommend it - so that: we don't summon their hard, contemptuous - terrible ticklish in belly - look - with a little open mouth - and with the glistening on front teeth. Exactly the way a woman in a purple jacket gaze at me in a few years, but there's a little bit of searching disillusionment in it - yes, it's me, but I'm ashamed, I don't greet you, I'll disappear in a second, I slip out along the side bank of the sidewalk. Back... Along.. More...