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Ephemeral Euphoria

On a bed of embroidered shibori cushions, you weave

together yellow roses with delicate red tips, vibrant orange

gerberas and lilac blue limonium, massaging adhesive ribbon

tenderly to your willowy frame. Lantern-lit, you feel bohemian

bride beautiful.

Stealing the show from some indie folk band, you whirl like no

one is watching until absolutely everyone is watching.

my god you look sensational: if only he’d come. You flutter

home in the garland and remove everything else first.

Your next date is another cancellation. The blooms have

shrunk into themselves. Stray pieces of tape lift to reveal their

torn edges, everything unravelling.



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