There is beauty in the way she unravels herself to me. How she plucks on the strings of her well-worn corset of flesh, With fingers skimming over the buttons and hooks that made her once distant to me. Stripping the clothes of Herself until she stands naked as a baby. Placing her Trust in the cradle of my arms and her Heart in my hands.
There is beauty on how she self-destructs infront of me. The prismatic glass pieces of her soul scattered like fallen snow As I hammered through it with an ice pick of words, lies and promises to be kept. Her tears ****** dry as the last falls down like a diamond discarded.