Object of Affection
An object of affection
To0 many hands touch the gold
Fingerprints decrease the value
Of the pretty little thing
Immortalized by words
Written by few
But enough to know
She’s precious
Some think she’s a saint
Some think she’s a muse
An elixir
A philosopher stone.
A Thief
There is truth inside the words
Pressed into notebooks all over the world
She has been tattooed on the unseen
And her song plays fervently
As a gypsy steals her a rose
Take a glance inside her looking glass
And see if reflections show truth
Or if the lady of shallot is waving back.
Mimicry or trickery, it’s a chance they take
Spending Afternoons and coffee spoons
with an object of affection
