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Сообщение от Veronic
Can I give my opinion?
Firstly because it is oil on canvas and talented guy did
secondly work really touches live. Such adolescents sovdepovskoy apartment, they very much want to be trendy and modern, but they are surrounded by a scoop. Such cases.
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just read it seems to me appropriate to picture a poem by Boris Kherson venture to lay it here:
Classmates. py - a time machine. Climbed
You can go back to the years lived, leaving the city,
say first love: "Love!" and hear "Yes!".
And - head pell, escape, leaving the family home
in Miami, Melbourne, Berlin, tall towers,
children under thirty, whispering: "he (she) lost (lost) mind."
Watch the eyes. Lie: "You're still the same (same). Coo.
The restaurant, a hotel, in one big bed.
Parents not long. Nobody cares. Do not hide from anyone.
And then, remember, came home at five in the morning hours,
in a crumpled skirt with a blade of grass in her hair,
as the mother cried, naked section, looking for a spot on his shorts,
Tuesday morning dragged you to the doctor
known specialty. You cried: "I do not want!"
his mother: "Do not worry doctor, I'll pay!".
A total of affairs was something - petting hand
in a seaside park, or in the garden over the river,
but there is no river or sea - in the doorway, my God, what
fear and shame, resentment - another shame.
Mom whispers: "Doctor, she sleeps with him.
Doctor - man, business, forty years old in appearance.
Here he takes you to the mother - said: "Go!".
A mother: "Virgo intacta.Devstvenna. Still ahead.
His mother sobbed, clutching your head to a huge chest.
And again suffering love: a staircase, basement.
And the doctor if you are not looking, not undressing.
He took over his ears, pulled, and kissed the top of the head.
http://borkhers.livejournal.com/742615.html