My heart was leaden. Now, is gold
to purify, to temper shame?
Embracing you may strengthen, fold.

A flux of alchemy untold,
in ev’ry frown you’ve made a game;
What once was leaden now is gold.

I wonder if you’d cleave or scold
if Metallurgy weren’t my name,
for holding you has made me fold.

“Our beauty’s something to behold,”
so confidently you proclaim,
“we once were lead and now we’re gold!”

But if we only fill a mold,
could love continue on the same?
Can holding you maintain this fold

away from all that’s cruel and cold?
Still soft from passion’s blissful flame,
embracing now; together fold,
To blend, somehow, our lead and gold.