The Lost Earring
I have the love of a lost earring.
A love that gives endless hope of finding back the beautiful lost.
Finding too late perhaps for the one I save is gone.
It is gone to fetch the memory of the beauty I owned.
The beauty which was never mine to hold but pass on to you.
To you, since you define my love for dangling art.
It dangled to gather the corner eye nook of him.
His last nook which often took my breath away.
Away, as he spoke sugar of my artificial art.
Artificial yet beholding honesty of my desire.
Desire for his gaze, one more time.
Time, he said was precious, so inconspicuous in his smile.
The smile, my earring promised to bring to my face, every time.
Now, every time is when I search for the lost one.
For the lost one reminds me of his one brazen second.
That second, should come again, I hope.
Hopefully, the bazaar will bestow me another pair.
A pair, I shall cherish with the same devout yearn.
A yearn that shall accompany these hanging pairs.
Pairs, must we keep or lose?
Lose them, you will gain anew.
Can you gain his same gaze on them.