Mud and Fishing

The falling fragrance.

There is the tired blessing of a perpetually ailing tree. The branches are heavy with the returning and ripening time, and the earth welcomes like a rough pillow the fruits of a memory that feels no shame.

Every step sinks into its truth; between my fingers I hold the peach, still warm from the sun.

The thin skin opens, gives way, and the mouth fills with liquid honey and root.

It is a bite that tastes of mud, a sap of rain and dirty hands.

There is no longer any distance now between what falls and what remains on the skin.

Memory nourishes that breath that tastes of home.

Deep down, even the firefly that had lost itself in those warm nights is love.

And that garden answered her as it did my tired, useless silence.

Because hands are dirty with mud.

And because perhaps mud is life.

Is the fragrance part of the Superfluo collection?. It is through a different light that the body changes and begins to shine again. It is by projecting oneself into a new dimension that a new world is explored. The artifice of fluorescence investigates through its excitations of light and exalts its gifts. Here is the genesis of this collection.