Random Encounters

A simple beginning

Like all Slavic stories

It started with Vodka

Just one Shot, really

 

All black everything

But her Soul and her Skin

Her hair smelled of Menthols

Her dress, of Sin

 

All Winter and a little bit of Spring

with Ropes and Hope

we played Games of Shades

off and on like a faulty Phone

 

One day, she said to me

I hate you and I love you

equally. Goodbye

I will no longer be your fool.

 

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