As a child, I liked to imagine animals as characteristics. Foxes were intelligence, lions were courage, dogs were loyalty, and beauty? Beauty was always a butterfly. I imagined her floating softly between humans, hesitating ever so slightly at each ones shoulder, making sure to only distribute the smallest amount of herself to each of them. After all, too much beauty is surely a dangerous thing. But from the first moment I saw you, I knew that beauty had rested her dainty legs on your shoulder for just a second, and she knew she'd never leave again. Beauty belonged to you like she had never belonged to anyone else. And they say that all is fair in love and war; but eyes like your's, my dear, were never in the cards.