A second gorgeous bouquet — this one more fantastical. Temple spires rise from a tangle of stems, stone mottled with lichen and sun. Dog-faced butterflies, impossibly long-tailed birds, thread the arrangement, perching on slender stalks.
Always flowers: red hot pokers like molten torches; hydrangeas as clouded clusters of powder and jade; dahlias in cathedral geometry.
The scent is memory: sweet and spicy, green sap, the mineral tang of wet stone. Wild yet arranged, a bouquet fit for a table, or preferably….A simple white wall.
And topped off with a simple red string..
A second gorgeous bouquet — this one more fantastical. Temple spires rise from a tangle of stems, stone mottled with lichen and sun. Dog-faced butterflies, impossibly long-tailed birds, thread the arrangement, perching on slender stalks.
Always flowers: red hot pokers like molten torches; hydrangeas as clouded clusters of powder and jade; dahlias in cathedral geometry.
The scent is memory: sweet and spicy, green sap, the mineral tang of wet stone. Wild yet arranged, a bouquet fit for a table, or preferably….A simple white wall.
And topped off with a simple red string..
