Intro..
Draw...
Poems..










Silver alloy in the main cabin acts so powdery:
when our tall holographic programmer lean on it:
often we talk about her: in the bathroom:
with this ancient glossy instrument: which doesn't know diplomacy.
Our claret module in atmosphere looks like sweet strawberry in the whipped cream:
when it wander: by slow rolls forward endlessly - to endlessness.
I think - when I opened hatchery's door yesterday:
it smelled like the spring -
I did not know that I love plants so much - deeply.
Sometimes I feel so abstract:
that: I have to put my hand from side into the overall:
and: to spread between the fingers little bit of this slimy smell:
and than: I am as after lovemaking
- or in port between drying webs
- or like at home: in the bathroom  - while my drunk wife
is sitting on the toilet with narrow smile -
I'm whimsically pissing into washbasin
                                     
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