…a rumour carried through Nature. Tears from a God created from nothingness and impossibility.


No one told the bee she couldn’t fly,

So she did.

To flowers so impossibly beautiful to her gaze.

Abundance, vital to our existence manifested from nothing.


Just thirty days to save the World –

not enough?


Her very life an improbability, but for attraction. These females of beauty.

Not skin deep or false mask; the very purpose of beauty.


So, hear rumours of honey, nectar, and tears from Ra –  a buzz of warmth and life…and joy.


Now I dare you to tell me again- beauty isn’t important, there’s no value in a rumour and finally… tell me I can not fly.


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