Sparkling gems, the faint glow of an emerald fixed into fine bijouterie,

The stones that we delicately thread together, their glossy faces and invisible fingers entwined,

Truly life is a beautiful thing, as delicate as the precious stones that adorn your pale neck,

But, Alas, our fingers do not connect, and we settle with mirthless laughs and the longing for the melting of their stone cold hearts,

And as opposed to the gentle caress of your jewelry,

The human race, as hard as we seem, remains strayed apart.









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