Hidden in the dirt.
glimmer so faint.
Not touched with an ounce of hurt.
Bound, tortured, and smothered in constraint.
Hidden in the dirt.
Glimmer so attractive.
Without thy hand inert.
"for now with me will it be active".
Nails dig into the earth around it.
Fingers grazed by another.
"I need to have it!"
"No, you just want something to smother".
"Are eyes met at that gem.
But for two different reasons.
I would let it fly high, and soar with the wind.
And you just want a glimmer that goes with the season".
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