in our city lives the largest specialist in studying the life of tsvetaeva’s work, irma viktorovna kudrovalarity about her suicide. i have been to elabuga several times, i have been to this the brodelshchikovs' house, on this half where marina lived, with mur, i saw this beam on which she hanged herself, this beam is for me like this, in order for me to hang myself on it, i need to put it on my neck, what do i need to bend bend my knees, bend my legs, and have someone hold me by these legs, because if a rope starts to choke me here, the person starts twitching and stands on the floor, it was impossible to hang himself there, impossible, and who would it bother in that case, this is a very difficult question , and i don't think it should be touched now, because it is too complex, i want to first return to the children about love, everything is in lines, everything is in lines, they lie , written hastily, heavy with bitterness and negligence, between love and love my moment, my hour, my day are crucified, my year, my age, nothing was born without love, so very often she came up with this lov