Liz Poem by Edi Soric

The noise of the spoon and splash,
The fire becomes alive and crazy,
The Red is rare of life,
The belly of the apartment tasty meals,
I'm cooking eggs,
It's still not bad for Easter!
A boa borderline ramp in my memory,
He eats what's left of juicy...
Liz is far from the heart, the furnace,
She licks other singing,
A fork asset that stings the hearts
To bring them back to the mouth of the fire.
The music escapes
While Liz evaporates in fantasies