a solid silver frame with an engraved handle. adorned with twisting vines of roses and their thorns. but do not worry because these too are solid and cannot prick your fragile fingers. you are thin and frail but beautiful all the same as you gaze into the glass.

you refuse to put down this possession, and so you take it with you everywhere. constantly looking at yourself and worried with your appearance. but beware my dear one, for if you look a little closer. if you move your hand up but an inch and read the words, they will become your ultimate demise.

so you lift it closer to your glowing glass blue eyes and squint only just enough to make out the words. and aloud you read, "mirrors are ice that do not melt; what melts is those who admire themselves in one."

and never again did you touch a silver rose or rest your hand upon an engraved handle.