(P.S. poetry series) Sensitivity

Andrey Lukyanov
2 min readAug 23, 2022

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Only minor keys in black and white for the bigger image portion, can the small river spread as wide as the ocean?

Soaking in the rain, the small village, clean the drain, streets are wiped out from the canvas of the city and the background is suffused with skies in clouds, bow to doubts, but those are cumulous, stories are humorous, breath of fresh air, slowly combing its hair, morning grass in the midst and thoughts of past.

Last moment I remember leaving, store it in my memory like something I cannot live without and it’s with me every day, no matter what I do or say, turned out fresh from decay, it’s interesting to watch the lizard crawl all over the wall and look back at you with its eyes, I wonder, does it know at all when it dies? Does it feel any pain when the tail is lost or joy when the new one grows back and mobility’s regained?

Voices heard from the outside, when children are playing, I remember saying something about how things were, my mother not with me anymore and my father somewhere out there, sometime ago, all of us together were in one place, moment fulfilled, frame of the picture, like there’s nothing more to chase,

Happiness turned my soul into something else, a specific taste, disgrace altering state, radio knob stopped from turning the sound that comes from the other side and the volume’s now lower, but it’s alright,

I was waiting for her the other night to come over, but all in vain, constant passover of blood thru my veins, do you have any idea of how scared you get when a man does not have a complete hand when you’re trying to shake it? Sporadic items on the kitchen table, good luck with finding flour for cake and trying to bake it,

In the small world cars passing by quick, continents are there to protect and echo doesn’t fit the chorus properly, lit the atmosphere, sobbing sovereignly,

It’s sad to see that no one’s gear is left out there to rot, it’s too tight in here like in a melting pot, still post posthumously awarded near the cemetery, drum and bass produce decibels that are hitting you up and enhancing your sensitivity.

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Andrey Lukyanov

Hello, my name is Andrey. I’m a Russian writer/Interpreter that writes in ENG