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diamonds

Flying across the white expanse
a dull day becomes coloured 
with the distant foggy 
black marks of flight
opening wings wide 
like a murder of beaks
thirsty for the blood 
of the ink of others 
on their blunt dry nibs, 
it ruffles their feathers
colourful for a short while
between the lines
of a vacant pride, the 
worthless worthiness 
of removing veils 
from other brides,
Faust flapping crows 
disguised as angels
come calling like 
unclaimed friends 
from all quarters, then,
curious bluebirds 
dissecting their purpose,
discover something 
shining and beautiful 
found in the dirt
between the cavities 
in all their walls,
behind the ugliness,
jewels like Ariadne
(writer not myth)
possessing 
the opposite title 
held to the mirror -
"he ventures she wins",
are fished out
and discarded
in the swirling ice,
cubed in the depths 
of a dark well 
like unclaimed
diamonds,
solid gems, waiting 
amidst all those other
melting treasures
to be, or not to be,
found







Candide Diderot. ‘24

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