It starts with sand,
a grain of imperfection
rubbing tender thoughts raw.

A seed of hurt,
a notion askew
in virginal terrain,
triggers ancient instincts.

And you wrap motherly
a gentler layer, then another.
Build riches around infection,
enclose, embed, protect.

Until all we see is beauty,
a jewel in your hand,
glowing for the world
to marvel.

But we all know
why it glitters
so pretty.

Don't we?

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byLiar© 4 comments/ 3552 views/ 0 favorites

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