It is the glistening fountain of breathtaking flower, or butterfly, spread for beauty, displayed & admired, absorbed & inhaled, caressed with eyes, mind & tongue, but what lies beyond; that mystery ancient, yet known now, a reminder demands, and slips into shape & form of the glove, fitting & fluid; the legacy of man; the lust of an age.
Immersed & embraced; shipwrecked & drowned; spacetime is bent, to the will of the wild; animals still, instinctive & present, yet entirely phased; the echoes of breaths.
A pull at her ears; a tug on her tail; a bite at her neck, with wind all the while, dispersing in place, in memory, mind; the presence to ecstasy; in one of one's kind.
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