Crimson Lotus: Soaring

But we both know the truth. Tomorrow, when the light hits the glass just right, the crimson lotus will look east. It will stretch its stem.

But the beauty of the crimson lotus is that it does not crash. It descends with the grace of a spent firework. It looks for another patch of murky water. It touches down gently, closes its petals around the seed of memory, and waits. crimson lotus soaring

Because the soaring was never the destination. The soaring was the proof of life. But we both know the truth

And in the three seconds I glanced away to check my phone, I swore I saw it hover. Just a millimeter above the rim of the vase. A tremor of levitation. The crimson lotus, testing the drag of the earthly tether. But the beauty of the crimson lotus is