It is the way the world looks
When the sun has hidden itself
And the sky is glowing in sad gradients of shadows
Teal, aqua, lilac nights
Making statements to space
I wanted to believe that rocks would take in stride their banishment from life
I wanted to believe they'd be okay with being stepped on
Ground up
Piecemeal
Tumbled, tributaried, washed and molded
Into a beaten perfection that lasts momentary--
But they weren't.
They cried gems!
they made the best replica in silica they could
They were insulted and worn close to the breast at first, but shining too bright those greedy fools mistook them for
Moonstone
a legendary thing, sacred, not God.
I wanted to believe that these rocks were intrinsic, that they had something in them
That gold was worth more than its weight
And malleable
That there was god in those plagioclase tears, that they were not the embodiment of sin
I was not convinced
