÷åðåç áîñîå âíóòðè
ïóçûðèòñÿ
â ñîñóäèêàõ ñëîâî
è øîêîëàäîì ïî âåíàì
êàðàìåëüíàÿ ðå÷ü íà ãîðå
à ÿ ïåøêîì â ìàãàçèíå
äîæèäàÿñü êîíôåòêè
íà ïàëêå
ñòðàäàÿ îò äèàáåòà
è ñûïè íà êîæå ñòîþ
íà îäèí øàã
è ÷àñ ïîñëå ñëóæáû
ãäå ÿ íå áûë
èç-çà æàðû
ïîäñòóïèâøåé ïðÿìî ê ãîðòàíè
ñïàñèòåëü ïîäòàÿë âî ðòó
|
through the barefoot inside
the word in the vessels
is bubbling
and like chocolate through the veins
the sugarplum sermon on the mount
and I've walked to the store
to stand waiting for
my candy
beat with the diabetes
and the rash has broken out
one step
and one hour from the service
that I missed
in this heat
that rolls up to my throat
the saviour is molten in my mouth
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