![Show Menu](styles/mobile-menu.png)
![Page Background](./../common/page-substrates/page0057.png)
The Lover
57
freedom air again, those
who had yearned for the
little monk for so long. Some
fled from monasteries,
others finally looked into
mirrors and rushed to
stores for earrings and silks.
Obviously, Elena Razelta
got a hasty divorce, leaving
the merchant in a long
depression. Even the ones
on their deathbeds stirred
to their senses. The most
determined to commit
suicide before and those
who were sighing among
the flowers, the women
wounded, those whom
even the Good Lord came
to discard, all the women
who
were
mercilessly
raped by Eugen the monk’s
impetuous desire left their
shells, which had become
soft as jelly.
Under the April sun, a breath
of life rustled in the Flower
Market.
Alisa delicately licked the
string of blood that seeped
from Eugen’s bewildered
lips.
Impassive
dragonflies
hovered in his eyes, open
for the first time.
And standing face to face,
both understood, each
in their own way, that
a happiness, previously
restrained, filled the square.
In fragile flower petals
with mauve inflorescence,
thousands of fiery beads
exploded, while vine shoots
stretched inconspicuously
over the stand’s old roof.
_____