Trapped facade.

Construe's ragged-woven puppet, in a play show for teasing fingers. Misjudgement disfigures a ravishing doll face, soaked with dripping filth of mascara and rouge. Hands touch, smearing prettiness that was churned out from hours of particular seams, exquisite sculpting and structure-building. Beauty carelessly radiates into a pitch of black, where it fades to a tangle of uncertainty.

Love, a fortress in sepia tone of melancholy.