Same Occurrances Poem by Anna Polibina-Polansky

You are sooo gorgeous. Wear your black evening robe, earrings of white gold and thin long heels. I am almost 5 feets of height, at your scale. We will seat at the upper lounge with dry Italian wine, with candles, and a palm orchard at the artificial soil will flutter nearby. That all doesn't mean that I won't be in a small black dress, too, so get morally prepared. I won't drop a word for the evening, and you plz don't utter a thing, despite everything. I dance at a good way, I watched two elder ladies hugging, at the Black Sea last winter; I explored them and noticed no special affection. One of them refell in love with me, but I had cared so little by then. It was in December. A month later I met someone like you. You compel me to a story, with your prolific wordings.
I will be minimal at it. Avaricious sex among Venetian pieces of furniture. Curtains smelling light cigarettes and local confectionary. Voices of tipsy lovers from a late cafe beneath. I am accustomed to multilingual embankments at former British provinces. I care not a bit. I am saturated with my easy Oriental techniques.
It is of you, if you think that not. Your tongue is so overweighted, overworded, long. Let us cut the story shorter, or I'll go to sleep earlier, u know.