when her idle fingertip
brushed past my heart
it left a trace in the dust
when she blew the smudge off
it fell like a dandelion of stars
Salt and ash
It was the last promise to be kept. My grandparents reposed where they had longed to be, at last. For yes, I had tarried. The morning sea ...
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There's a thread on Facebook and all over the Internet that goes: "Shakespeare said: I always feel happy. You know why? Because I...
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Mon weekend parisien, mis à part l'exposition "L'or des Incas" à la Pinacothèque , une petite expo sur Théodore Monod au... -
"Don't worry, for $99m, I've got all the time in the world." Auctioneer and Sotheby's head of modern art Tobias Me...
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