Colors flood over us but after all after all gray is the price The sound of breaking stems is my only interlocutor. You wear the clock that bears no time but irretrievable сolors of rainbows, On the bed where your skull is eaten by the roots of new grass Those who smiled on Sunday were gone 5 days later on New Year's eve. I wonder if he ever existed Tear down the walls and lie perfectly still Memories are made of fridge magnets