It means nothing; and what would it be if it was all given to the ones who watched, and waited, and wanted? Still so little, still uncoveted. Yet this is precious, and cradled gently in her hands. Like the flowers that lose their petals in the gentlest breezes, like fragile mica... Like fragile mica, who could not allow the sight of the sun entrance and broke for want of light. What it will become and what it should become are yet unknown, and isn't it certain that all our thoughts on what it should... read more
