Tell me again
the story of loneliness,
of storms we cannot see.
Rainy whitecaps whipping and
icy currents.
Roaring mourning.
Descending to dark depths
where sweet and brine stir to combine.
Writer | Copy Editor
Tell me again
the story of loneliness,
of storms we cannot see.
Rainy whitecaps whipping and
icy currents.
Roaring mourning.
Descending to dark depths
where sweet and brine stir to combine.