We build sandcastles just to destroy the pure, wet sand, dreaming of pineapples, messages in bottles and California. Suntanned toes and blue lipstick, red dyed hair that runs in the rain and streaks your shoulderblades with plastic blood. Lights twinkle over the harbour like your teeth in the sunlight. You attract men, flies and trouble, […]

via Semaphore-Jimmi Campkin — A Global Divergent Literary Collective