Ouroboros My house mate works as a funeral director in Hollywood. Recently some big shot died and so all his big shot Hollywood acquaintances bought huge floral arrangements to be displayed at the funeral. Rather than being thrown into the trash, my house mate took it upon himself to cram the flowers into his tiny Honda and bring them home. And now our home is bursting with floral scents and colors. Each room has a couple vases filled with roses, lilies, sunflowers, cherry blossom branches, etc.

I took the bowl of rose petals from the living room table- pinks, whites, yellows- and covered my room with them. The carpet, the chair the bed, the silky petals hiding the grey carpet, my room looking like some nuptial chamber in a Hollywood film. When E arrived I told him to close his eyes and take off his shoes. He stood blind in the center of my room and I placed one single rose petal in his hand. I gave him a bite of an asian-pear, the sweetness opening his senses and all at once he knew what was in his hand and opened his eyes. We hugged and he smiled. I sat him down in the straight-backed chair once owned by my grand-aunt. Petals over my fingers, I rubbed his face, temples, neck. I took petals from the floor and put them in the pockets of his shirt, the sleeves, over his heart, under his waistband, into his socks. He grabbed some from me and ate them. He grabbed me and we laid down, sandwiched together. "You have to lie on them to get the full experience," he said.

He draped petals across my bare stomach.
I rubbed petals into his naked flesh.

I ate one, the bitterness sweet, knowing he had done the same.
Lemon_Soda Nice 071219
In_Bloom Lovely
Better than making out on paper money
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