The rose and the gardener
by Christos Polydorou
In relationships one is the gardener and the other is the rose. The one gets tending, and the other gets tending to. But surely this is a recipe for disaster? Why can’t we alternate roles? I love this idea, of being you, for a day, and you me. I can wear dresses, and you can stick flowers in my beard. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?
Why be either, or neither, when you can be both?