Cherubim I'm Sorry but Thank You

If my nose were my child, the most valuable advice I could bequeath upon my aquiline little darling would look something like this:

“Poems and sneezes and bees and murmuring mornings will mislead you to think that roses will always offer you a powder perfume light as gossamer wings. I know, beloved- it seems as if one day, all the cherubs took a break from rolling around field of strawberries and stopped splashing in fountains of wine and visited Earth. Eagerly, wonderingly, these little babies –much like you!- popped into the most glamorous and bustling of metropolises, curious and energized at the spectacle man makes of himself. Yet, upon witnessing only terse acts of loving and the most disheartening acts of brutality, the tourist cherubs could not help but blush! Their round nectarine cheeks turned fiery red, a soft pink, even yellow with comical nausea. In the really extreme cases, blood fled their cheeks altogether and fled back to their enchanted nursery in the sky, leaving their faces a pearly white. There was no need for their cheek-blood to flee so hastily however; the disheartened and awoken little angels fled quickly after, scared of what they could possibly see next. The only evidence they left of their excursion? Their cheeks! Marked so, soiled really, with the shock of the ugliness of the human world, the cherubs never really wanted to wait for the sweet nectarine color to return- and definitely did not want to take this in-your-face reminder back with them, to a dreamy world of innocent hedonism and clouds of pillows and nectar. They left their cheeks behind and we called them roses. Imprinted on them always will be the light dust of the clouds that you will always desire, my dear nose.

But remember! The most injurious expectation you can have is that a rose will always be wearing this fine fragrance coat. You see, you should know better than anyone the importance of having nice breath! With this desire in mind, the blowing wind dusts off and picks up the rose’s perfume, stealing it and swirling it around its mouth and blowing it all over the Earth, in hopes that people will forgive his icy wind chill and irritating impudence (his favorite activity being to lift up women’s skirts and playfully peeking underneath, you know).

So treasure your moments with cloud dust when you can and remember something more selfish stole it first if you find a naked rose.