Inks bled from our stones


We found it seems, from knowing how we loved,

The grain of wealths within us. We did not ask

The names of these crystals, these scintillating ores

Whose veins ran deep into us, opalescent, ours;

Or how some semi-precious stones could, when crushed,

Form the base of colours, inks bled from the rocks.



For Blair: for discovering in me, and in us both, such a deep, rich and varied wealth of colours. For appreciating these qualities, your careful handling of this fragile structure; for holding parts of me up to the light, revealing layers of iridescence and beauty preserved inside, making me shine. For being just entirely beautiful, through and through. 


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