Stone Cold

Stone… Cold…

As I’m walking up to it

Its beauty glitters through the bushes when I peek

Its lovely figure, leaks through the separation of the leaves

But as I get closer

Its beastly modesty  makes the biggest appearance before my eyes

Its horrific shape openly makes through everything in front

For seeing something beautiful

Can be something repulsive

As I go to touch it

I figure it’s soft

Mushy

Warm

But when I do

Its rough

Hard

Cold

Stone… Cold…