These flowers of yours, you’ve strung them into a fragile Halo and nested them atop my head. Lopsided of course, with the subtle tilt of the Earth’s axle, the petals brushing and teasing my temples. The feather weight of your affection sits upon my crown, like your fingers gently massaging my scalp by the fire on cold Winter nights. You are the gardener, and you have sowed the seeds into my mind, your flourishing bed of flowers.
Onewsource Prompt 1 - [White Day]