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Opalite
Love is a milk-blue bruise of light,
a hush caught under glass.
It blooms when you lean close,
goes pale when you pass.
Not quarried but conjured,
heat marrying sand.
An iridescent moon I wear
like a second, trembling hand.
I am opalite, and loving you
is learning how to keep
a patient, factory star alive.
To wake, and not to weep.
a hush caught under glass.
It blooms when you lean close,
goes pale when you pass.
Not quarried but conjured,
heat marrying sand.
An iridescent moon I wear
like a second, trembling hand.
I am opalite, and loving you
is learning how to keep
a patient, factory star alive.
To wake, and not to weep.
229 pages, Kindle Edition
Published October 2, 2025
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