Side-Stepping

I never go outside for fear
Of puddles and polished waterfalls.

In my youth I'd stab pins
Through glamour photos of naked torso
And smile at my flowering beauty.

When torn down by lucidity,
I spent a whole week painting the fragrance
And watching it bloom back.

Swirls of colour to get lost in,
But Xerox lacks the shortcomings
In which sentiment first emanates.