perogolkonda

СВЕТОТ Е СВЕТЛИНА СВЕТА! (THE WORLD  is HOLY LIGHT)- its the same word in Macedonian
СВЕТОТ Е СВЕТЛИНА СВЕТА НА СВЕСТА! (The WORLD is HOLY LIGHT of CONSCIOUSNESS)

Phone booth
they discuss through
the moisture on the glass.

Female curves
do not accept competition
Earth is flat.

She alone took the responsibility to draw over the masterpiece of the artist who created her. She was born from the stain of unclear interpreted, unclassified frames of fall in the night. Covered with paper-cuts from sugar-scented paper of locked love letters she bravely continued with the corrections in experimental extremes of expanded worlds. From the place from her breasts where clearly outlined and obviously sensed the alchemy of sweetness the wonderfully stripped landscapes have bounced into the vision centre of the clairvoyant. The disbanded hair on her thrown back head was touching the free fall of the windows through which lucid heartbeats toss life-created radiance over bed sheets of passionate twists. One hand tied up whit a dry-branch leash to the under chin of a  phantom with a giant turtle's face, has justified the creativity of freed thirst of the other one which through colors expressed the perspective of the observers. The elbow that was planted in a pot of a sequoia tree took the palm high in glamorous mansions of horoscope where influences of trembling stars were only instant fun. The mouth made of stuffed butterfly wings slipping over the hip and sends kisses to keepers of the oceans of milk which flew on the boomerang of silence. Behind her the flocks of bluebirds flew the hang-gliders of mottled grimace over the faces of favorable winds which sailed through untangled flashes of sunsets and they could not catch one tear. Mirrored perfection run ahead from the shadow of the displaced karmic circle. A little rider appears from bitten uterus planet still attached with belly-button cord of green dragon. Under needle which puts the curves of fresh tattoos to fluttered moments which bring forth the nectar of renewed spirits…
She is wonderful not because she is beautiful or ugly, happy or unhappy, good or bad, present or absent, but because she is a need for the experience of The One. That I'm too, recognizably dispersed in train steam inside the art work from the past iron era. (tog)Ether we are…
                                                                                      Ivanov Pero