March 9, 2015 she prefers ocracoke Leave a comment the moon was brushing her hair it was night of course and numerous uneven purrs of tangles untangled by her brush’s bristles gave away that she’d spent her day by the water. Share this:TwitterFacebookEmailGooglePinterestLike this:Like Loading... Related Posted by abirdonawire. Tagged: Love, moon, outer banks, poem, poetry, tide
