It is true that any love is a flower. It rises, blooms and dies. After that, it remains the perfume of its passage, and it seems that this really matters.
It is true that any love is a flower. It rises, blooms and dies. After that, it remains the perfume of its passage, and it seems that this really matters.
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I find the resemblance of love and flowers to be so parallel, as we see that love is not just scents and sniffs but also the stings of bees that float around no matter how long you sway your pedals in the wind. All we can do is stay root it to Mother Gaia and feed off of the nutrients as all flora and fauna mingle and form compassion throughout the ages and epochs of Chaos and Order. Thank you for bestowing us with a beautiful photograph and a delightful thought to accompany it. n.n