Venus de Milo.

I once saw the world in a statue. 

She stood before me porcelain and pure. I let my fingers dance along her weathered body. The marble was cold but whispered promises of a fire within. Time had stolen bits and pieces of her, as time so often does, yet here she stood, beautifully broken. I smiled to myself, though her arms were gone she still held so much. She represented such an exquisite irony. Though we leave much of ourselves behind as we grow, in the end, it is what makes us whole.