without a pair
Clear, glimmering, white.
His hand claims the sequined waist
That he earned to hold with jewells.
Cut, polished, sewn.
The chandelier above emanates
The ones hung from her ears.
Strung, tied, boxed.
Not as much a girl's best friend
As a man's trophy wife ticket.
Bought, gifted, worn.
by mistake, a fleeting touch
i dare not move, nor utter a sound
the world spun as it held me
before coming to a full stop
souls leapt out from their windows
jewelry slipped off my wrist
for me who waited, it felt like eternity
for you, prolly a millisecond only
I want to write poetry,
I want to paint your sky with a million colors,
Or tell you how beautiful you really are.
But the words in my head are a thin gold necklace,
Knotted in 80 different ways
Impossible to unravel, except by those with steady hands
Patience to sit alone and focus
To pay attention
As they pull at each part of the knot,
Slowly breaking away parts of the chain
Sometimes grabbing the wrong section, that isn’t quite ready to be yanked out yet.
It might take months, or even a year if you lose focus.
Once you finally see each loop of the delicate chain,
You can wear it upon your neck.
See how beautiful it really is,
And how easily it can break,
Or be knotted all over again
But jewelry can’t untangle itself,
And who has time to untangle a necklace when you can pick up some earrings instead.
Tell me, is it worth it?
Just one look
You’re a luminescent light in a dark grey world.
No bling necessary; it pales into insignificance next to your beauty.
Metal on hand, that piece does not suit you.
A classic band of gold I think you would suit. You suit me.
There is no need to advertise your full time commitment.
It is clear from your beauty, you are already meant,
For another to love, but all sane men would look in the hope,
That there had never been a tan line on your ring-finger…but no.
These eyes do not lie or deceive.
True feelings left to their dreaming,
Of what might have been,
If only there could have been a way;
And one day I will forget you…but not today.
No other has come along who could ever replace,
Or compare to thee. They are less than could be.
I know you will never be mine,
But all wandering minds are fixed on thou
And all of thine divine beauty.
In a far off land lives a travelling man.
He once saw you as you passed by his window.
Since that day he has scaled mountain tops and mined his way,
Through all the gold, always asking, do you know? Do you know,
Who she was?
Once seen, never gone.
Unfortunately you will always remain,
(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
If you were jewelry
You would be
A mood ring;
Pretty to look at
But hard to read.
Now you’re just a conversation piece.
Everyone had a mood ring when they were younger, right?
We thought the heat-sensitive jewelry could actually tell you your mood, and sometimes it could.
Blue was happy.
Yellow was anxious.
And purple: love.
I was standing by the door. I didn’t know what to say.
I was yellow.
Someone walked by me, so I quickly pretended I was sharpening my pencil.
I glanced at the person.
I became violet.
I was walking to class. The person walked faster so they would be walking next to me. I quickly turned from blue to yellow to purple.
This person turns blue when with me. They know I turn purple. They don’t mind.
I kind of wish they turned purple, too.
I know a girl that piles on the necklaces
“Makes me look pretty,” she says
She’s all nervous, high-pitched laughter that jangles
as she fidgets with her armored collarbones
Rose red rashes bloom around ivory flesh,
She scratches at her skin inflamed
Ring ring ring around her pretty little neck
With those posey necklaces and gemstones
She smiles fondly at each reflection
of chains and rocks entangled
Wrung wrung wrung of beauty is she
Bitten so fiercely to her ivory bones
Her laughter hacks into little cough spurts,
and the metal winks dully as it strangles
Ring ring ring around her rosy little neck--
she piles on more necklaces.