The seashells near the ocean
where I grew up are storytellers.
Every morning, feet burning
...
[+]
The seashells near the ocean
where I grew up are storytellers.
Every morning, feet burning
...
[+]
It came to him suddenly, as he ran down the street screaming and on fire, that he was making a spectacle of himself.
After all, this was a modest neighborhood of well-maintained lawns and sensible
...
[+]
A silky warm scent coats the air.
Soft layered rose tutus push
their blush pale skirts
to float
...
[+]