The Elgence of Delicacy

Fragile beauty is lovable because you have the power to destroy it.

Wrap roses in tissue paper, never able to iron out the wrinkles of a loving purpose.

The delicate imperfections are admirable.

Watch as the fluorescents fade, like the spark of initial lust, Equally capable of death, proving with the final breath.

Once devoured by time, lay the withered corpse to rest on the shelf next to the archival polaroids.

Let the dull exposure remind you of the start.

Once when colors were brighter and the stars looked so nice.

Now they’re just something to wish on.

To love or not to love, the journey is treacherous.

You must learn, to not fear the fall.

Be fraglie, let danger hold your delicate heart and give up your power. It’s elegent to live life on a tightrope.

It’s elegent to embrace threat in our delicate form.