In the nape of gallows dreams hung is the vision of you dancing naked in front of me  Tango tremble, my rough hands trace dance floors across skin discotheque. Lip-sync your poetry into the night’s vase my fist will bloom your portrait to lie next...

In the beginning,Winter stood over me,a god with iron breath,cold as fuck,asking whether I would kneelor survive. January split my ribs openand called it birth.Blood remembered motion.The year accepted me. February came robed in red,a god who does not bargain.It taught...

... in which Tolik becomes a true friend, demonstrates remarkable prudence, and uncorks his father's cognac. Dawn never broke that day. The entire sky was covered with dense leaden clouds, and the air seemed to be filled with a yellowish-gray...