An Aesthetic of Possession

Walking past a green vine with a white flower growing up a street sign I reached out and touched the flower. I felt a very brief impulse to pluck it off the stem.

If I had done so I might have smelled it and discovered there was little detectable scent. Then, likely, I would have simply thrown it on the ground.

You can’t trust the system.

Man.

(Visited 1 times, 1 visits today)

Leave A Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *