Not the dreaded Friday 13th.
a thousand-years-old and feeling its age.
On the death of an old friend from Warsaw: Edvard ...Read More
We are completely powerless against the world corruption ...Read More
Micro and macro, they are of the same feather, ...Read More
Smoothing ruffled feathers.
My hands, made of gold, couldn't touch the flower ...Read More
You disappeared out there somewhere diffusely in the ...Read More
Let there be light (and warmth).
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