PERSONAL WEBSITE of

EKATERINA SHUSTKHEM

17/02/2015

Timidly to hold your hand, play with your fingers. It is no coincidence to touch our shoulders and wince because of the scattering fountain of sparks. A lot to laugh, to shout down the gulls, to confuse in the warm gusts of wind, knocking down a step; to feel the warmth of the rays, playing the entire palette of the sun and the chorus of the coming on waves. Bare feet leave footprints in the sand,..

 

...bare souls in eternity. 

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