The star facet on this American cut diamond is a canapé frosted with supersensible beluga caviar:
friable eggs of dark light are wetly globular; they rest on the bezel of hope chest cantos. On her bride day,
Catherine-wheels of color pull karma from thin exnihilo and place dimensions of want within a jeweled safe box cathexis: this diamond.
Such a small stone harbors desires beyond the filamentous reach of felicific calculus. Right or wrong,
she’ll walk down the wynd in graywacke lace and gosling ivory; her gowany hair-trigger hexerei
producing a greenhouse haet rose in the decanter hued grappa. Liquor the color of water will bleed if you look at it hard enough, and, miracle of miracles, you’ll see modern zymurgy: from water, brandy.