jewelery
Alice | 2006-06-20 23:13
islander | 2006-06-17 06:52
As I sit on the beach, sand beneath my toes. Waves roll in and out as The sea, our great mother, breathes And with the rythm of the surf come Treasures from times past caressed in her bosom and returned to me here. Seaworn Glass & ancient coal black as pitch.
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