What is it to taste.
lose their boundaries in the vulnerable process of life
Feathers of a pink swan like a wildness ready to soar.
Wildness and tenderness.
Petal on a belly.
The dream was split by reality.
Mirages and distortions haunts me.
I know myself in the flow of wholeness.
Hot June — contemplation of self.
An aura of presence.
A bud of delicate pink; pink knees, figs, feathers.
The iridescent surface of the shell.