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2021.06.14.

Phaeton

That thing that played on the Owner's Voice gramophones,
Was the thready melancholy of her.
Joined a suicide-colored phaeton she while passing,
From the streets of the beloved of deaths Pera.
 
Drunk leastwise my sister who had galore flowers,
stood she on a flowerless flower shop
with a purple Karadağ revolver wrapped in tulle,
Oleander pictures there were periwinkles in the showcase
 
I haven't committed suicide in the last three days I can't know
With a suicide-colored phaeton that has horses flowing to the sky,
if it could be because of the pick and purchase of the periwinkles of my sister.