A short poem to Russian model Victoria

- Mask...
- Task...
- Cheese...
- Please...
- Portuguese...
- You miss...
- One...
- Fun...
- Sun...
- Flower...
- Hour...
- Dark...
- Park... 
 You were saying this to me....
- God...
- Dog...
- Frog...
- Storm..
- Burn...
- Bridge...
- Fridge...
 I've replied to you...
- Satan isn't kind, Man...
- He has a fork instead of a pen...
- Enter my soul...
- Enter my mind...
- Never grow old...
- Be kind...
 You told me this...
 There were boxes everywhere being elsewhere...
 There was your black dress...
There was no game chess...
- What the heck?
- Will you carry me on your back?
- What's new?
- Being true?
- Ozymandias, Man.
- A story glory...
- You and me...
- Mother Russia...
- Saint Petersburg...
- Dostoiévski...
- Not Salzburg...
- Gogol...
- Moscow...
- Not a single blow...
- Gorki...
- Mother...
- Father...
- Wood...
- I'm in the mood...
- Masquerade...
- Crusade...
- Whatever...
- Whenever...
- There's snow...
- There's a show...
- Godspeed...
- There is a wolfpack...
- There is Godsmack...
- There is where I end and you begin inside a dream...
 You were telling me this...
 I was staring at your black hair...
 Listening to a song...
 There was a TV series inside our mind...
- Come on Man...
- Just be kind...
 You told me this with a smile for a while... 

Victoria