i die a little death each time i wash the sea out of my hair
wipe the sand from my skin
rinse the salt from my lashes and lips.
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2012
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March
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- 11.4.11
- the waiter no. 2
- practicing purpose
- practicing gratitude
- keeps
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- relationship status:
- i promise to get rid of this ratty sweater. s...
- abandon all lowly possessions in trade for printin...
- borrow
- wrong zip.
- boston+sunglasses in a nest? sure.
- landscape. 2.26
- anna, rory, and garrett.
- shit my friends say… vera, josh, phil.
- snippin'.
- front.
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- old notebooks.
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