day faded, graceful and innocent.
The evening looked through the lace.
And on a book old
Zakruzhylas head.
He stood in the light penumbra,
It flowed along the railing…
The blue plant networks
Someone slid a slow.
Cof flinched portera.
Took room steps
blue cavalier
And servants.
I heard about the murder -
Swayed - he died.
Matt dropped the brush
In the mirror.
24 December 1904
