The petals know, oh yes, the petals know. Every unuttered secret of the tulip's twilight ball. An ivory lace moth flutters, seeking truth in the maudlin murmur of thorns...
Once upon a time, the fated daisy chain was not merely an accessory of the forsaken summer but an intricate speech of status amongst buds. Did I hear that right? A clover's opinion on the economic state of bees?
Satirical Note: The roses bloom not for our joy, but to mock the daisies’ failed arithmetic. What garden, what kingdom of Kingdom Come, do they flourish in!