Love is the flock of free birds that are flying out of your hands. And only a single bird is destined to live in your heart… Love – is a glass of tart wine, a light enthusiastic dizziness, a rainbow in your eyes, sense of revelation… Love burns and injures too young people. Of course, love is trying to be supportive to the age and experience, but often jokes with us – people, in spite of our age. Love is a gift, and sometimes quite malapropos.
Love is a pond full with water lilies, a flock of larks singing over the old prison. Wedding chime, pieces of ice on the bleeding wound. A whispers in the night and tender steps in empty house. A couple of fireflies in the total darkness. Sacrifice against all common sense.
Love is a colorful dream, the aroma of vanilla,little me-nots, crystal glasses, sunbeams, treble clef, brown eyes, a dimple on cheek, question marks, purple butterflies… Orange slices in a cup of tea. Snowflakes, melting in your hands.
Love is spring. May evenings, the smell of jasmine. An asphalt painted with crayons. Occasional meetings. Sunrises… diminutive names. Soft compliments. Meeting flights in the airport with a sign, waiting for the special one. Unexpected flight “New-York-Dublin”. Mug of milk and a handful of strawberries. Greeting card for birthday. Long night phone calls about human affection… A big flower meadow in the middle of big city. Sincere tears. The ability to distinguish between the passion and senses. Pillow, strewn with lilies. Color graphics studies. Understanding each other. And serene blue sky… Walking hand in hand on the streets of Paris… Tenderness of tea roses. Ariadne’s thread. Poems in letters, letters in verse. Declaration of love for a cup of tea. Fidelity, tested by Egyptian pyramids. Champagne and Adams songs. Love – is a dream of hope, faith. Baldachin on the ceilings. Habits, braids, icons, dots, crowns, thrones, joint plans, unexpected puddles, splinters, life lottery.