Good day to everyone, who suddenly occurred to begin to read it.
I do not think this discussion is for someone useful.

/Sigh of regret on the lips/

I would give anything for the quiet streets of my city, where there are no high-rises and clouds machines.
where the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves. where I used to walk alone,
trying to capture every memory rickety house, every tree
and every bush of fragrant roses.

|Stuck in the wrong cities|

Have you ever met the dawn? I - yes. constantly.
when the first ray of the sun peeks out from behind the curtains tightly curtained
and gingerly touches my face, forcing his eyes from the book and look
  the sky, always gives me a sincere smile.

|Telephone calls under the moon|

the sun is shining in the sky, but look at his feet. there, too, the sun is shining.
a scattering of suns with white petals visible in the tall grass.
chamomile. small pieces of the summer.

|Border conditional|

I prefer cocoa