Photo with beautiful girl and weapon.
The weapon in the woman’s hands…
Behind a window night February is angry,
But in your embraces as if in the afternoon.
Strong there is a wish to join hands
The burning hot fire,
Or gentle, fluffy kitten
On a lap yours to doze off,
Naughty and careless child,
Having run up, suddenly to close eyes.
Sometimes, as if wind spring
I excite consciousness of the man,
And at times, as if rain autumn,
I shed tears for no particular reason.
Everything happens, and everyone I happen:
From the refined lady to….,
But sometimes for myself I notice,
As the weapon is demanded by hands.
Who on fitness, to someone a new thing
Can present happiness the moment,
I want again and again
Began to feel a hladnost in hands.
These fingers that is gently caressed,
Studying all zones on a body,
To the daughter hair interweave into braids –
Dexterously enter cartridges into shop.
The handle (gracefully, but it is strong)
The gun in a hand placing,
The purpose in a sight to shoot neatly –
From passion blood in veins plays.
For someone cruise round the world,
Limousines and pati-junkets.
For me – “Scorpion” or “Beretta”,
Or “Glock” – just super – “toys”.
I do not want either diamonds, or a dress,
I do not want neither be rude, nor to swear,
To me today for entire happiness
Is not enough in M16 hands!
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