When you first told me that you preferred gold
unencumbered -- jewellery stores drew me in.
Imagined a trip in lieu of three months wages.
Wrapping a leaf around your finger, kissing it.
When you first told me that high heels messed
you up -- Footlocker became my store of choice.
Matching Vans. Imagined no shoe manufacturer
anywhere, knowing your perfect calves like I do.
When you first slow-danced with me, I gave up
all frantic dancing, forever. And quit shopping.
I imagined that no one had ever moved like this.
Nor breathed the very air I was breathing, then.
When you first even used the word unencumbered
you spoke of what most binds a person, to another.
I need not imagine a thing. There it is on your hand.
Diamonds do not become us -- we became them.
-- © Ciprianowords, Inc. 2013 --