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Transmigration of love. Silence opens wide confused smile of the day. How far to approximation of
your breath, sleeplessness of lips! Hands fly apart in
different cities and nights. Inquisitor’s time
seeps in drops, minutes and kills
your tenderness with the monotonous indifference of the sky.
The war goes on.The war goes on.War runs.War flies.Today I rememberwith what passionin my childhoodwe…
Yesterday, Oleksandr Korotko received a letter to his personal mail, which mentioned the intention of…
Olexandr Korotko is constantly working on new works, which we regularly publish in the relevant…
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