Of flowers and dreams

Red posies with a splotch of yellow in the middle. It doesn't stand out, yet it has an "in your face" look to it, with the power to excite the perverse feeling of repulsion and attraction. Loud, garish, yet possessing the allure of a black nylon stocking–clad hooker. You look at me as if you would swallow me whole. Thank god I'm not on drugs — as much as I love Rimbaud, I haven't yet gotten to the "complete derangement of all senses" part. I would like to someday — completely fuck my mind and see the white light or the blue … whatever. I'm not going mental here, I'm only staring at my bedcover — enthralled, possessed, completely ravished by these gigantic, gaping flowers.