I stare out at the breeze lifting the fushia flowers from the plant, seeing
only fairies with puffy blossom skirts
and skinny legs dangling out beneath.
When they fall to the ground, I think, ‘Oops, there goes
another one who was too weighed down by her dress.’
Visions like this come often;
bursts of another world thrown
at me like powder at a colour festival.
I drink them up and let them buzz inside me for the rest of the day.