Автор: Анна Моргачёва





Yesterday I came home

after a long day of roaming

which felt like a hundred

of lonely years.



Yesterday I came home

to find that all the lilies

had died away

in a vase of Aspirin enhanced water.



Yesterday I came home

and saw the petals

of my hopes and dreams

all dead on the table.

Cloying scent of carnations

filled my lungs -

or was it just sorrow?



I took a jug and filled a glass

with water - so I thought -

and when I started drinking,

I realised that it was nothing

but pure loneliness.

I couldn't finish it

because it tasted

like lilies' blood.



Yesterday I came home

to find a lot of things:

Some ornaments of blue and white

memories,

some candy of comforting words -

in the far corner of a drawer,

some scraps of long forgotten promises,

some withered smiles

in sepia-old photographs.



But you were nowhere.

Yesterday I came home

and I didn't find

you.