Your orange gleam of arduous work reveals
marble-eyes of sunken glory.
Grace trails behind as your paths become
liquid movements of dismissed beauty.

The purest diamonds of my heart
wonder why you’ve never seen
those seas of washed up hate and love.

Silken strands have woven your years and
life engraved notches in your armor.

Suspended circles escape to the surface and
shuddering bubbles of trapped air are free.
Reflections catch the eyes of onlookers,
but mere seconds cannot equate.