Earlier it was severance,
A wrench low down when I was tight on,
A tearfulness when I thought of rejecting him,
Heartbroken when I lost all my gold coins.
Gold soon turned to grey,
Bleached and blanched to sickliness
In the many hours of nights awake,
Repeating the same old antimatter,
Chewing the cud on antimatter.
The screw turned back and forth,
The notch scraped harder,
The lockedness – all I wanted,
Stable into death I rolled.
No, he’s still gold
But I have turned to ash.
All it took
Was a profusion of ambers,
Rubies and yellow,
Yellow gem of Sun you are –