Hacked, broken, pried from the stone gold is base.
Cold, expensive – precious, yes – but still.
So it’s actually pretty simple, really:
yours cannot be made of gold.


nothing can faze me
for you are the earth
and i am the wine
i pour myself out onto you
saturating the dusts and
painting them wet with
my insides turned outwards
with all that remains
for we are one
the left hand and the right
the navel and the eye
the eye of the world