On Ice

You store me in your crystal-covered days
and take me out to catch the light of you.
I keep a polished gleam of amber hue
and hope for a magnanimous display.

Opalescent words gleam with such art,
rendering my protest useless, mired.
I see the velvet shell I once desired.
It feels like retribution’s counterpart.

Shards of broken baubles bite my heart;
enter rationalizations uninspired.
Polish me again with finer grit.

Anxious not to see resentment start,
I become the cool adornment as required –
Bitter ice as diamond’s counterfeit.

A silver setting of reluctant praise
gives background for the facets you subdue;
a touch of inhibition, sapphire blue
enameled cool as careless cloisonné.

Familiar play of smiles, I submit
that touch of jewels worn -- so exquisite.