A unique glint compels the eye
Towards desolation
Pluck a stone from the desert floor
For examination

Would faceting reveal a prize?
Do its flaws void its worth?
Could it ever shine so brightly
It seems not of this earth?

Yet inclusions of baser stuffs
Are threaded through its veins
Harsh mineral imperfections
Which this beauty contains

They cannot be excised, you see
It would transform the stone
Into a hollow, pitted thing
So best leave it alone

Just drop it back into the sand
With spots you so abhor
Another hand will pick it up
One who can love it more

I’m just a stone; skipping carelessly
through streams of love.
  One
      Two,
          Maybe three
Seeing how far I’ll make it this time; distant
enough to not see where I immediately sink.
  One
      Two
          Three,
             I made it to four
Still however far you go, the awkward silence
you can hear, is a distant failure’s echo.
  One
      Two
          Three
             Four,
              Must be luck to make five
With the smooth skins of stone, often to tattoo the
smoothest words on tongue; patiently ready.
One
      Two
          Three
             Four
              Five,
               Honestly, best not to count on your failures,

Its so easy to lose count, but just count on one:
—the one day you eventually find what you’re looking for.
One day does feel like a distant arrival, still it will be
one day, you’ll know you have found the one.

She’s on top of the world
But she’s up there all alone.
She’s a goddess disguised
But her feet can’t find the ground
Anymore.

If you
Read her face you’ll see
The seasons never show.
Not new,
It’s a makeup routine for the ages
And no, no nobody knows the way
She’ll change into stone.