all that glitters are violets and the golden threads that make a beating heart. 

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dear reader, 

however did you find yourself here? well, there is only one simple answer to that — you dream, and more so than the ordinary would dare to. words, weave a grand composition for us the way none other could. 

the flowers in your hair may wink and die. but perhaps your hair is just as well the forest, my sweet. only the greatest poems make all the sense and none at once. 

breakfast in spring is yours; take it however you may. read on, if you dare to venture past the edge of the world.

may dance until the earth beneath our feet, are on fire. 

with an immortal heart of violets, 

—   elle  

✵

© breakfast in spring  / michelle chan 2021