Fragility.
A crystal lattice of sparkling glass spider webs.
An endless display of sunshine at mirrors.
Brittle skeletons dancing in graveyards in moonlight, and the headstones crying out for silence.
Little girls crying with scraped knees, a side effect of no training wheels.
Medusa sleeps next to her blind lover, Gorgons, unable to love anyone else.
Tiny hearts breaking every day in the millions, from famine, heartache, and war.
Stars, cut up and sewn into my skin.
A long dusty road, long since abandoned, slowly growing over with weeds.
An ancient ziggurat, its mud brick walls slowly crumbling away with time.
A lonely man, sitting on the front steps, stoic and solemn.
A bird with a torn wing, unable to fly ever again.
A quarrel between parents, with a small child hidden in the shadow of the door frame.
A dark house, haunted by echoes.
A windmill, slowly spinning for eternity, with no wheat to grind.
A little boy, crying at night due to nightmares.
Fragility.
Fragile.
