To perceive something as beautiful is a damnable thing. Beauty disarms, allowing for optimism; leading some to the conclusion that perhaps the world isn’t as vicious, or spiritually stifling as once believed.
She represents everything that could be described as good and kind. If I were to touch her she would be corrupted. My love is a creeping mold devouring everything that could potentially bring me happiness. It’s best to leave her be, to preserve her beauty. Admire her from a distance.
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