#fuschia

i suspect that underneath all your layers, there is a stone of warm fuschia, smooth, unbroken, unbreakable. if law were to crumble and dissolution were to reign, scores of softer souls would resign, their centers being made of furrowed silk, or whittled wood, sea sponge or brittle bone. i suspect that if buildings were to burn, and vines cover windowed walls, you would wend on, defying despair…. that the stone at your center would remain warm and unscathed, that you would still laugh without irony, and find beauty wherever it still existed. i suspect that you’ve always known that you cannot truly be broken, known that even if your outer layers were to be stripped away, soft, supple, pliable as they are, you will remain as beautiful and defiant, even hewn down to the time-polished stone of warm fuschia.