I have nothing to say but i loved it.
it made perfect sense and had amazing appeal, tugging at the chains of my soul.
you're so talented.
how do you think of these things?

you gently tickle the flower with a gentle remembrance. Seemingly, it grows taller beneath your fingers, as if telling you something, though you barely knew what.
This was nice, you supposed. The white, pure air and silkiness of the flower . . . But, God had promised (or so you thought) a beautiful place with warmth.

gentle and beautiful. ; ]