LES ETUDES: A Tragic Romance

About 700 useless edits in, I realized I would never be happy with how this is written. Ergo, I am posting it as is.
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He scuttled over to her across the gelid glass and his proboscis picked up much of the frost, baring coarse window glass. She lay there, fresh from heaven, a hexagonal beauty – a frozen aquatic world entrapped within her thin crystalline body. His thorax trembled with the cold. Snow clumped around his antennae pressing wings deep against his banded abdomen. He limped, where a human ignorant of his innocence tried to swat him with a heavy hand. Only the female mosquitoes draw blood, after all. The swirling snow pushed him off his course.

He knew only of this obsessive love. Excited, heated up by an unseen blush, he moved towards her, wanting her; wanting to touch her, wanting to feel her, wanting to be with her, wanting her to notice, wanting her in his life.
She knew no love other than this momentary obsession. Cold, unyielding, she lay an inch from him, sorry that she would never glisten in the sun as others have done, sorry that she did not land on a softer surface, sorry for this poor soppy love-struck idiot, sorry to be unnoticed by anyone but him, sorry that she was not the first snowflake.

He reached out to her, trembling, hesitant, afraid. She was so perfect, so impervious to his burning desire. She was something else, a creature of a world high above, unknown to him. He wanted to touch, to– just for a moment – feel that beauty with his tarsus. He was clumsy, and the ruthless wind was blowing his thin leg away from her icy perfection. But he would not yield. He touched her, startled by the cold of her body. And the snowflake melted, at a clumsy touch, before terrified eyes, into a pool of water in front of him.

I watched as the mosquito swayed against the wind, completely alone, lost on the enormity of a frosted window, forgotten in a cruel glistening storm. Not a single purpose to keep him living, his one love having disappeared at his trembling touch. This is why it should not snow in September.

So the last two lines is your explanation right? If so, might I recommend a page break or a line to divide it from your masterpiece?

I really loved the tone. You conveyed the tragedy really well.
Buuuuut... because I know it's a snowflake and a mosquito (I hate mosquitoes) I couldn't help but giggle at the situation. I know, I'm heartless.

P.S. You're brilliant.

Glad to hear it. ^__^ I needed that.

Technically... it was part of the piece. I know it's disjointed, and I see how it kind of takes away from the piece, but I feel like it needs some explanation.

This is the axed version. It was shorter, than it was shorter, now... how is the length?

Length was fine. As in not so long that it became a little tedious and I didn't feel like you were holding out on the clues as to what was actually happening.

Oh, part of the piece... well. Idk. Stylistically, I personally would change it because it really detracts from the rest of it. It just doesn't seem like it flows cohesively. I think it's the sudden change in Point of View.

But your choice.