a rose, a week or so into the drying out. it’s fragile. it is delicate. it is wrinkled from the process. it looks more worn and aged that it would be had it never been cut from the bush. had it never been stuck in a vase with water and with food. removed from the bush and given a purpose beyond existing wildly. yet still it hangs from my window drying. a reminder. among many reminders you can find in this house. that from day to day and moment to moment our existence is moving or lives are changing. a rose that is dying on it own stem instead of its collective bush. i don’t think it’s a metaphor. the rose is not like or similar to something else. the rose is still a rose either on that bush or drying in my window. #withoutaprompt #dyingonitsownstem #aroseislikearose #leicam8 #tomorrowscometoosoon (at The Heights, Jersey City) https://www.instagram.com/p/BvHYxvund_1/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=f873selpyhe9