flower zombie girl

i was recently at some dance party & took a brief respite outdoors with my wonderful friend [other] vic, to teach the bored bouncer/security guy ballet against the wheelchair cramp rail [as you do].

he was extremely confused & bewildered but really got into the spirit of things & by the end of the sesh we had random strangers lining up as we repeated this ad hoc choreography in an unintentional "the sweetest thing" style beauty salon dance scene homage. a good night.

...then i met her. and fell in love. my flower zombie princess. she let me take photos as i directed her as she bled barely there into the dark night. her blossom halo separating shadows. isn't she beautiful? i don't remember her name...

and it made me think of this:

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rage at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

- dylan thomas