The desert believes, woe to him who harbors deserts.
F. Nietzsche
solitudes
Auroras in their variegated siding whipping winds and the azure water as it scatters the veil of the day his promises of love. S e ula and opinionated injured when doubts we reach the star of the glittering night in the clouds, scabious sluggish momentum of the heart, it feels tight morning cross scents in life milestones secret to his close inclinations. Alienating encounters, she awaits him. In transgression of it yet knows his ésirs better vassal ina sible of his wife's dreams. So then it was often looks up to his solitude in the turmoil of the landscape to meet the rose in its flex uos first ity.