Love Letters to June: Petals on the Edge of Infinity (Print)

White daisies float in a realm between reality and dream, their petals not petals at all but fragments of light—soft, spectral, and trembling with the echo of something forgotten. They rise from the ground as if untouched by soil, suspended in the stillness of an invisible current. Each bloom, a perfect circle of whispers, spirals outward into the vastness, their white edges fraying into nothingness. The centers glow with a golden hue, not of warmth, but of distant suns long extinguished, their light a memory more than a presence. Time unravels around them, each petal bending space into delicate folds, while the air itself seems to hum in an unknowable language. Beneath, shadows ripple like liquid, dissolving as quickly as they form, leaving only the faintest trace of their passage. The daisies sway to a rhythm beyond sound, a cosmic pulse woven from forgotten stardust and the weight of invisible dreams, as if they are the last blooms of a universe poised on the edge of waking and dissolving into light.