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The Coquette

Girl, oh girl,
I can see you
in the wintry morning
as you go out
hurrying
with the copper bracelets’ sound
your hair surmounts your tiny head,
your hair,
coarse like horse’s mane
black hairs cutting the air
as you look in the mirror
for the last time
before you lе а ve.
Girl, I can see you
with the lipstick,
idolizing your mouth,
full shiny mouth,
your high heels tempt the stairs
as you descend,
Girl, I know you,
your plain body, tiny legs, slim,
trembling
with the muscles of your arms
as you lock the door;
What have you done
and they don’t know?
Your curly red hair from the youth
you’ve straightened it smooth
and dyed black,
Girl, does your body hurt when nude?
What have you done?
I could never see
your plasticine drops flow,
why did you go to the wolfs
when night fell:
teary drops tear the flesh
your tiny breasts
were mesmerized
with the green amulet
swinging
from one breast to other
we see each other strangely;
How queer,
I can see you in the night
girl you crawl, the saffron shawl
slithers your body as your stomach
swells with pain
“To hell with the wolfs“
and in the room of old wolf
always reeks malodorous.
Girl I can see you
bending,
your knees rubbing the floor
your coarse palms
sending the bulletins of shame
to be published,
hush girl, I can see
your blackened and regretful
running down your toes: tears.
I can see you go
as someone locks the door
from where you went in the night
I can see you howling,
green with forest coldness
green were your eyes
reddened with plasticine
and you, what were you?
Why girl you are,
in the wintry night
as you come back home,
just another
plasticine doll.

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