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Quote by Aleksandra Ninkovic

“Galaxies never say to the Sun : You are not enough! Pearl never asks the great Ocean: Why have you made me feel so small? Lovers turn to each other while never turning into each other, Their purpose is not comparison. How much space can one lover hold for the other? What kind of refined delicacy can one become in an offering? When we grow, we grow together - always greater, always brighter. Always like a pull into infinity. You are yours to love and to hold. What is the waiting for? Love and hold. Love and hold. When your heart is in growing pains, let it. Be careful of that fine line between being held and lost - Of that fine line between protecting and overpowering. Fine lines are for finer love, that like a wave foam yields gently.”

Quote by Aleksandra Ninkovic

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Aleksandra Ninkovic

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“A Churchyard In Summertime by Stewart Stafford O, to stand in a quiet country churchyard, The graveyard bending in summer zephyrs, Chlorophyll light beneath swaying poplars, Rook song in twilight's nocturne. Oblivious hues spread upon canvas, Beside the somnambulant swanning river, Miasmas of midges at the water's edge, In the crosshairs of a painter's thumb. Then the sun rolls away over the horizon, A veil draws across the long day's play, A churn supper collection of basket and easel, Recollections in the slumbering night. © Stewart Stafford, 2021. All rights reserved.”

“Where Storms Nest by Stewart Stafford Time's arrow has left its quiver, And mortal men denied a sliver, Of sweet-faced solace or settled debt, Surrendering all to sweeping death. Beware the vixen with the perished pup, Of merciless slight and sacrilegious sup, Of mother's milk and witches' brew, Curdling infamy and death's-head stew. The trap is sprung, the rider unseated, A mourning procession for the defeated, A great wrong sits on the anointed throne, She is Queen Bee and you, but a drone. From a spider's web veil, she does regard, Hateful glances from black heart's shard, Envenomed nature of poisonous Man, The scorpion's strike of a foul plan. After seeking power and blood and lust, Remorse a late guest to a dagger's thrust, The vulture shrieks to the globe's outer rim, That Man's ambition is a Hell to him. © Stewart Stafford, 2022. All rights reserved.”

“Te miré directamente a los ojos y me enamoré de ti. Me hipnotizaste con tu aliento a verdades envenenadas y me dispuse a nadar en tus pupilas negras. Me ahogué entre mentiras susurradas y cortes trazados en el alma, a traición. Te convertiste en mi religión. Te rendía culto bajo el dolor escondido en una sonrisa. I looked you straight in the eyes and I fell in love with you. You hypnotized me with your breath of poisoned truths and I set out to swim in your black pupils. I drowned in whispered lies and cuts drawn in the soul, treacherously. You became my religion. I worshipped you under the pain hidden in a smile.”