I found this in my notebook from a long time ago, thought it was beautiful and poinient(i dont know how to spell), her writing is beautiful. I hope you(whoever the 'you' is that is reading this, which might only be 'me') think it is also.

"She made him want to cry when he walked up the path through the ferns and moss and doves and lilies and saw her covered with earth and dust and ash. Only her eyes shone out. Revealing, not reflecting. Windows. Her feet were bare. he wanted her to tell him the rest of the story. He felt bereft without it, without her. There was only these women with mirror eyes strutting across marble floors, tossing their manes, revealing their breasts, untouchable, only these tantalizing empty glass boxes full of dancing lights he could not hold, only these icy cubicles, parched yards, hard loneliness."
-Francesca Lia Block