I believed we were made of gold
Shone in artificial light
And amongst the amber glow of dawn
:ignites our fingertips
Burning boldly as a Phoenix
Assorted in passion; euphoric
I watch as streams of shining viscous liquid lustre
Soak-seep-so surely within our tissue
Permeates past our brazen bone
Discovering paragons in animosity
Observing some shapeless forms
In an epiphany we don’t understand

I count them
On each golden finger
As they turn to stone