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Igor Eliseev (Kara Sagan) Worrying the tenderness of a touch ...

I'm used to this dream, exciting and strange,
In which I love and know that we love,
But the appearance of a woman is sometimes elusive -
And the same and not the same, it's like behind a fog.
Paul Verlaine "My old dream"

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Evening magic.


In the hand a tangle of needles - sand burns.
He wrings white silk from his hand, squeezes lace with folds, worries with tenderness of touch.
Again and again promising a solution, he leaves without saying goodbye. Hot as the present, loose as an embodied dream.
Gradually the heat passes, leaving warm memories.

Over time, emotions endured lose their colors - memory envelops them with sand dust. And the best net for them is art.
It allows you to pin them with a pin to black velvet as soon as possible, close it with transparent glass and hang it on the wall.
The pollen of colored wings remains in full safety.


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Cherub


 
Aroma of sand time.



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The Sleeping Buddha


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Heart whisper


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Angel


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Invisible Life


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Wanderings under the stars


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Silver Dreams


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Approximation.


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Starlight Night.


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Melody dream


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Vladimir Kush Treasure Island

 

Paul Cézanne A Village Road near Auvers

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