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                                                                                  Botany

 

a petal after petal is falling on the ground, he loves me – he doesn’t love me, I love him – I don’t love him, I will figure it out in a while – I am observing cornflowers in the wind – roses are smelling sweetly – the intoxicating smell of the spring is in the air – I am tying gladioli with a rough cord – I will plant the first crocuses – velvet petals, I am waiting until they unfold -  and by the end of the summer, lilies are blooming – the sweet smell of evanescence – conserve, at least for a moment,                                                           the feeling of the fragile beauty