She had to buy them.
There was something about the silver curve and the stone,
The slight medieval shape of the wire
Unfurling like a vine…
An incense eddy…
A disguised musical note,
That appealed to her.
The small polished quartz insert,
Handcrafted and flawed,
Tugged at her heart.
She wore them when they met.
They talked. They laughed. They loved.
He left.
He is gone.
She can’t take them off.
unbuttoned or undone 
oh my, why do you break my heart that way!
ladies and earrings, you always buy them and that time there are more than 100 pairs you can’t remember when it was last worn 🙂
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I don’t mean to break it, just to hitch a bit. That’s what poets do because they can. 🙂
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You have a unique ability to make everything hurt so beautifully.
Ah, pardon, je fais normalement les commentaires en Francais!
Tant pis, tu lis bien Anglais, je suis sur, je suis sur, je suis certain.
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Thank you AnElephant you are always generous in your praises. Et oui, je lis l’anglais couramment, tout comme toi; cependant parfois je comprends les mots mais le sens se cache quand meme. Remarque, cela m’arrive en francais aussi! 🙂
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An incense eddy…
There you go again, making my mind jump in joy!
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Ever the scientist…
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Nope… that was the artist talking 🙂
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Ah! recognition of sight and smell converging in a line that is neither linear nor fixed in an approximation of Phi?
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Hahahaa…. You should see my paintings. they defy all mathematics 🙂
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I would love to see them sometimes. Post a couple wouldya!
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What, and ruin my reputation!?! 😉
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What reputation?
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Oh, way to deflate my ego! 🙂 Hahahaaa
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They are lovely. As is the verse.
And, somehow, the sorrow.
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Thank you. In the end I will always have the earrings. Smiles
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Enchanted earrings…, can’t take them off. He must have been a magician. Don’t want to mess with magicians, Em ! Enjoyed the poem.
Paul
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Thanks Paul.
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