Vanishing grace

It was born in shell and colors. In its shell texture, in its colors tenderness. It lived. It cut itself for the first time. It matured. From the cracks and scratches, it came time. And it finally died. Vanished grace. It reinvented itself. Peeled, it transformed the environment. From its vanished grace, emerged the missing and in detail vibrated. And in detail was present, again.