She remained untouched because she kept herself hidden.
Hidden behind her smile, her laughter, her family and her friends.
You do not always notice her because she likes to stay to herself, alone, and secluded.
She blossomed in her seclusion into a beautiful flower.
Although nature around her seemed to be only weeds.
She became a flower untouched by unclean hands.
A flower seen by many different eyes, making her acquaintance known of her a condition of inanimate desire.
A look of burning fire blooming out this flower, awaiting someone to possess her gift.
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