Thursday, December 2, 2010

static

The winds came and with them a quiet. The constant static of the drops hitting tin roofs formed a sort of white noise that made thought unnecessary. She knew she had to leave
Maybe I'll fill up with rain and it won't matter whether I'm wearing boots or not.



This strange saltwater rain- and then I'll always carry the ocean in my curls.

1 comment:

  1. I've often thought when I'm leaving the coast that I'm carrying the ocean in my curls.

    ReplyDelete

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