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		<title>Albena | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/albenakircheva</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Albena</description>
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		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>THE ART OF BROKEN THINGS</title>
			<description>inspired by kintsugi - the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with gold  </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/albenakircheva/1516348/</link>
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			<title>The Daze of the Week</title>
			<description>a week of emotions and images collected in a poem</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/albenakircheva/1486649/</link>
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			<title>A Poem of the Girl with the Rabbit Ears</title>
			<description>some of my creative ideas often come while I'm driving in the city traffic </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/albenakircheva/1485237/</link>
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			<title>On Rainy Days</title>
			<description>Onrainy days she likes to get her feet wet &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Onrainy days she has a different way of loving &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbs..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/albenakircheva/1484777/</link>
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			<title>Junkyards</title>
			<description>Feelingslike wild flowers &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Grow in thejunkyard of my soul Boxed up leftoversof stinking fears Puffy-eyed,salty-mouthed sorrows Ghostlysilhouettes of past apologiesBusted tires ofanxiety attacks Body bags ofscrewed up intentions Rotten flesh ofsweet innocenc..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/albenakircheva/1481987/</link>
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			<title>There Is No Why</title>
			<description>There is no when or whereThere is no how or why &amp;nbsp;I know I am destined &amp;nbsp;To gather all the broken pieces &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;Until I recollect myself in my full entirety&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;all the tears, all the fears, all the..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/albenakircheva/1475901/</link>
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