Air and live, the page, in whose eyes sparks of the dying sun sparkle... Faint smile and thoughtfulness... I know not only that sometimes is difficult to look at beauty, but also that often simply don't notice it. Only having lost something, it is possible to understand as far as you valued it. I don't trust in fairy tales, but I like them to listen. My time - an instant. The sun expiring by light which has slipped for a firmament, falls somewhere for visibility limits. I like to be in crowd, I like to feel part of this world, but hardly someone from this crowd will see me. The instant is imperceptible in eternity of changes of day and night, black and is white. The edge often remains behind earlier, than I understand it. Facing a decline and inhaling its last beams, I solve where I will go further whom I will be tomorrow and who will die in me today...