gliding_distractions Death of a Rose More thoughts than I can catch are always running the Grande Prix in my head. A see through dress of simple daisies, dancing laughter, the light as it highlights the soft hairs on her arms, the natural ease at which she assimilates everything around her into her personal lounge; all these things and more are my distractions, and they slip from my careless fingers. 040817 what's it to you? who go blather from