They come from the sand, gorge on my riptides’ blue feast, then beg me for land.
By Lucie Rohan3 years ago in Poets
There's nothing worse than a bunch of church people hanging around on the sidewalk on a sunday afternoon. Some people work on sundays.
By Lucie Rohan4 years ago in Poets
The way up is the tricky part. The way up kills. It is easy to fall forty feet into water of uncertain depth. It is easy to let the wind take your breath
