The shipwreck crawls up the beach.
The volcano is so ice cold.
Trees creep into the ground.
The sailors have long since drunk their rum,
have devolved into the jungle,
absolved of their central differences.
The shipwreck crawls up the beach.
The volcano is so ice cold.
Trees creep into the ground.
The sailors have long since drunk their rum,
have devolved into the jungle,
absolved of their central differences.
Miniature Moon 