Spindling heart strings on
Silk spools
And weaving them
Into tapestries
Her agate eyes
Are finely carved by
God’s platinum knife
And she pierces the hearts
Of those who covet her
Like a trophy
Barring her own
Her maiden hair
Cascades down the arch of
Her back
Ringlets and Rivulets in a
Raveled and receding river
Untouched by the boulders
On the shore
Pristine
And pure
She is an Angel
A crystalized phantom of rose quartz
Apparating out of the emerald mist
Dismisting
The scorn written on their faces
Cloaked in invincible armor
Spilled Ink 