roughpad
Thursday, April 03, 2008
Of tendrils carved in stone, a faint memory .
Even today the wind sighs over Bukhara.
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see?past the cobwebs and the grime.just as luminous
Just this incredible sense of peace, and space.
Something about the play of sunlight on worn sto...
Of tendrils carved in stone, a faint memory .Even...
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austere
Moody Libran. Not very social, cant stand pfaff but you wouldnt know it; Would you care for a nice cup of tea, deah?
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