Taste of Honey

Смак меду

A warm ray slides along the skin,
like time that never hurries.
Each drop – a reflection,
where life quietly begins.

Silence fills each breath,
the body hums like a string.
The taste of a fleeting moment –
knowing beauty is one and the same.

Light melts along the body’s curve,
the world draws nearer to the soul.
In clear reflections – eternity,
in their warmth – motion and peace.

Honeyed light rests on the tongue,
without beginning or end.
It softly whispers the answer –
why we are made to shine.

The skin breathes dawn’s warmth,
the world awakens in rhythm.
Each morning – the first summer,
where we remain unrepeatable.

Drops slide down like thoughts,
leaving traces of warmth.
And it feels as if the body
is a mirror for light.

Everything moves softly, like breath,
within light and skin.
Beauty isn’t what we see –
it’s the moment that stays.

Fingers speak the language of light,
their motion carries silence’s meaning.
The world dissolves in this secret,
where everything becomes one.

Light lingers on the skin,
like a trace of wind’s breath.
Beauty never leaves –
it only grows quieter.

The world turns transparent like time,
each touch becomes a tone.
We don’t seek meaning in the cosmos –
we are its orbit alone.