She wondered through Hana-Machi. Tea-houses opened on narrow streets with bamboo doors. The dim light peeked at her through the door creeks spilling the mystery and sensuality.
She imagines being the insider. She imagines being the flower among the flowers that blossomed and opened behind those bamboo doors. She imagined she had the years of training to be the most exquisite flower that would leave her tender and graceful. She imagines her naked body being painted in pink. She explores her body as if it was a pink flower. She masks her face, her chest and her neck in the color of the lover leaving the V shape on her neck bare naked. She draws crimson half-moon on her lips with red filling the tiny cracks of her big mouth. She puts petals of colorful garment on her tall tender body, garments opening at her full breast. She tucks her head high with a dome shaped wig. Then she decorates her hair dome as if blossomed. She arranges herself like she would arrange the flower. And she sits there, exploring her making. She sits there with her wide, open back facing the bamboo door, waiting for her lover.
Creating the illusions, delusions is her skills. With her entire being masked into a graceful flower she awaits on her lover.
Wind blows, the bamboo doors opens and she feels a kiss on her bare skin of her neck. She pours a tea without turning around. A musical note runs through her as she offers herself to her lover.
She likes the life of a flower.
She likes the life of a flower as she wonders through flower town (Hana-Machi) in Gion district of Kyoto. She likes the life of a Flower.