They can. They do. After they break, they can be more beautiful than when they were whole. Sometimes light requires the new angle to refract so perfectly. Sometimes, I submit, the holes and tears are too much to overcome, but just as often, in my humblest estimate, those broken wings still fly. Sometimes I capture the scars, the unique, odd imperfections of these insects in photographs, and sometimes they disappear from the preying viewfinder, and I pull back from the camera to find the insect climbing in belabored grace to the treetops, higher and higher until it finds infinity and all the world beyond.