Max Fomitchev-Zamilov | Poetry and Prose

Максим Фомичёв-Замилов | Поэзия и проза

Sometimes I need to uncork.
Uncork words.
Uncork feelings.
Uncork visions.
Uncork thoughts.
Allow the sun to shine in my face.
Allow wind to run through my hair.
Allow waves to caress my body.
Allow grass to kiss my feet.
Allow sand to cleanse my pores.
Allow love to fill my heart.
Allow your hand to stay in mine
for a few moments longer.
What’s the rush?
The days are passing by.
I need to uncork.

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