We slept by accident. In the morning
I was doing something, calling someone,
and maybe half an hour later I noticed her eyes.
Thick hair, high cheekbones.
I remembered how we fell asleep yesterday.
Before that, last night.
How long we chatted about the eternal.
Spit. And mini. Long legs.
The way of joking about God all the time,
a tight T-shirt, a zip in the back,
moans on the freeway.
– Probably enough to stagger already.
Are you even eighteen?
– To me? Sure. A lot more.
– Perfectly. Can you go?
And now – naked in the morning light.
He looks so unusually wise,
so strange that he doesn’t feel like eating.
– I am your death.
And for some reason I believed it right away.
hammered into logic, reasoning,
did not even take out Occam’s razor,
but took it and asked directly:
– Not that very soon.
At least another forty years.
Maybe more. Do not be afraid. I will not eat.
I’m small at all.
– And I asked. I asked you!
– You have an adult death.
Do not be afraid. I don’t want to hurt you.
I just went in earlier.
You are so afraid, afraid of me,
you are getting dumber from day to day, you
do not sleep until you are stupid , you beat your muzzles
– you will die like that before you die.
You smoke, blow, read rubbish,
all the time rude, constantly drunk,
like talented and rough,
but in fact you are afraid of life.
So that’s it. Don’t talk about “no death”.
I am. I like the color black.
Cats. Stories. And flowers.
And I like you.
I’m leaving now. But you people, understand:
your angel of death is your guardian angel.