| Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, | |
| Take him and cut him out in little stars, | |
| And he will make the face of heaven so fine | |
| That all the world will be in love with night | |
| And pay no worship to the garish sun. |
swells of change
Perched at the crow's nest I welcome the brewing gale ideal conditions for a feminine travail
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In the laundry bin, making home next to my socks and underwear, I found a little tube of glossier blush, two square neon magnets, and a spec...
