Please forgive the hastiness of this note as I’m writing from inside a flower (where I now reside). The goings on are highly distracting, in the most exquisite manner.
My eyelashes are rainbows and wings are softer than a kitten’s nose. I am beyond well.
From inside the flower another flower (it’s a universe of flowers eternally folding in on itself with more flowers) is rubbing the pollen out of her eyes and winking in a sort of floral Morse code. Petal soft lips whisper utterings both charming and strange. The scents are intoxicate.
They are saying…
1. We are all portrayals in the Cult of Beauty. 2. Wave at the clouds. 3. Enclose yourself in petals as needed.
I’ll report back with further intel as it is revealed.