I don't want to touch you for fear that you'll break, like some fragile piece of ceramic that rests upon the shelf for all to look at. Perhaps your beauty would best be preserved that way, up there and out of the way for me to remark upon every time some casual visitor comes around. I know in my heart that the best of all pieces of art are those which are most often taken down from the shelf, caressed and held lovingly, and replaced to be admired from a distance. The best pieces of art are those that, even when taken away from you, have such a lasting impression that the mind turns to them in times of turmoil. The best pieces of art are, indeed, human. So though my temptation is to leave you on the shelf, to not touch you, to fear and respect you, I'm sure it's not the best of choices.
