Ava Claire Harris. The Sea Worries Time (№ 381811)

Flowers on the tips of his eyelashes like a perennial star Shine dimly and silver, real lanterns. My boy looks like fireflies with your eyes, spinning around and not moving at all. Landon gently takes my hand and draws to himself, really silent, but I still listen. I sing in time with his heartbeat, put his hand to the place where we live feelings and pain, and whisper that the mountain disappeared, disappeared, or simply went away. And the guy whispers that grief is rain, rain, came down from heaven, touched everyone, the rain, crying about the fact that he is in trouble. I agree and keep quiet afterwards.