It was an intertwining nexus of fragility and endurance. Each year they bloomed, bearing their frail faces to the atmosphere. Those frail faces that at times were crested with diamonds, coagulated dew drops that perched tentatively on the curve of a lonesome tear. Fragile in their pale hues, yet stitched together in a patchwork bloom, they released an infusion of beauty into a twine nest of rustic brown. When they danced, transient petals crested on upturned lips, blessing them with a flowery kiss of frail incense. Yes, they were fragile, but preciously captured in an acute moment of pure bliss.
Victoria O, Copyrighted