It is about time for home coming! I approach a certain limit, which has to be crossed, whatever I leave behind. Just a few breaths away.
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| Time to shoot again. |
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| He brings not just words. |
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| Breathless. |
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| Easter light and time of expectancy. |
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| Does not need words. |
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| Sto spiti mou. Doulévw. In the house where I work. |
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