Apology

Before starting...
"That face, wrote by virgins fingertips and poetry brides with longing letters, began sewing from this monotonous color truth a naive childish mantle for love, bearing the sins of waiting pavement soil...
That face, in front of which, the sun said to the valley blind:
I am not gold…
In front of which, the hay declares to walkers: there is naught but water under it...
That face, perfumed with Lily rebels songs and gave him her beauty and handed him the keys to Overlook "Venus" features and paint them on the bloody lips...
The face through which the broken birds of poetry had launched a passage singing their afternoon love hymn … a small symbol of freedom to escape the limits of modest words and mute smile and fear from future..."