The flower escapes to pierce through a world of sensations. The spices are fused to the incandescent petals. It’s arose who believe to be a chrysalis. Her magma courageously dies at the feet of a figure, depraved by such elegance. This floral incandescence is not Narcissus. He would be too enthralled by his own undulating reflections. The rose is the ally of the butterfly hunter and goldsmith. The calyx releases, until the end, an impertinent nectar, almost an offering.
It is meticulous in the act and heroic in the memory.
It’s reminiscence will burn the tongue.

*Details provided by Nez A Nez