• As she falls, the wind gently caresses every curve, every strand, every being of her soul,
    until she is fully engulfed.

    Together they dance as the spiral down. The hot breeze warming her outer core. Every
    move is guided, every breathe is coated, on and on, they continue. This has no Limits.

    The softness of her cheeks, as the redden from the exposure, could light up the dark.
    Frail in her own way, she still falls.

    One after the other, receiving their turn to be touched. They cradle the ground with beauty
    so velor.

    ;A rose petal, she is.