Floating Away

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    I'm entranced by the unbearable lightness of summer fabrics, the juxtaposition of romantic prints against exposed flesh, and the remarkable speed with which winter's monochromatic palette has been swept away.
    I find myself staring at beauty recently revealed, yearning for both the women I see and the clothes that they wear.

    If life was fair then society would have accelerated years ago and there might now be a world-wide acceptance that androgony was the norm and that hirsute classification was now ancient categorization. Then I could race to the shops and participate in the clamour for pattern, colour, shine and shimmer.

    Sadly, that's not the case, so Ophelia-like I drift away to sleep, bourne upon the swell of images that have flooded by during the day, dreaming of floating away with the tide.