Atsauksmes
Apraksts
All the Christmases roll down toward the two-tongued sea, like a cold and headlong moon bundling down the sky that was our street; and they stop at the rim of the ice-edged, fish-freezing waves, and I plunge my hand in the snow and bring out whatever I can find.Vai jums ir kopija? Pārdodiet to!
Atsauksmes