For God’s sake, won’t someone pick me up.
I’ll whisper in their ear, murmuring impossible promises:
love, abundance, peace.
If only they will carry me far from those damn punishing waves.
If not, I’ll bite their ear off!
In Other Words: Beach
For God’s sake, won’t someone pick me up.
I’ll whisper in their ear, murmuring impossible promises:
love, abundance, peace.
If only they will carry me far from those damn punishing waves.
If not, I’ll bite their ear off!
that little voice 
Poor shell doesn’t know that the waves make it beautiful. Thanks for sharing your lines.
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Well, shells have not been at the top of the brain chain, I’m told. Being beautiful or being beat to death, that is the question.
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