I made this. You can have it.
What impossible things did you believe in this week?
Kiss kiss bang bang, s.
P.S. Here’s an excerpt from “Enchanted”:
Full blown, full bloom, the color of blood, the color of lips and lovers in heat. Every petal a tongue, a whisper-kiss, a velvety brush of skin in the gloaming. Dipping his nose into its center, brushing his lips along the edges of the petals, he inhaled. The scent was heady and heated, skin and secret places sweating in the throes of passion. It smelled dirty and ripe.He should have known it was enchanted. No rose grew like that, perfect and sordid, pristine and soiled, without at least a little magic. Perfectly at its peak, ready to be plucked. But he felt enchanted too—the night quiet as a forest, the garden he’d stumbled into, the secret opening of the rose, surely it all meant something magical and true—and so he bent and did just as the rose asked, using his hunting knife, severing the stem in a single, confident cut.