With every dream,
a rose sprouted
somewhere on her body.
Cream colored roses
for her dreams of
love, red roses for her
dreams of fear or envy,
pink roses for the
dreams that defied
all understanding.
She’s still dreaming
every night. Look at her
now, before she’s made
entirely of roses.
—Vogue Italia.
This image does not belong to Belijose’s Fashion Hauz.
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