Pierce the pearl and we are customarily one:
That is to say, yin and yang.
But after a time,
oil-and-vinegar-like, life will refashion us, and we will find
at times one rises and one falls, alternating so day by day.
Worse, despite all your fine choosing and my fine heredity,
And over my efforts to forestall the effects of gravity, abruptly,
I may cease being perfectly round where it delights you;
If then, just east of Jackson a finer, harder pearl crops up
will you mistake time’s process for devaluation? Or
will you cherish me, gem, above all vogue gems?
I hope rather than finding me lacking lustre, rather than
being crushed and cast into the ditches of your mind,
that you whoop and, nose-first, delve into what’s rarer,
noticing she has spontaneously improved over time.
If you cannot,
best make way for the truehearted who,
having penetrated a goddess’ guises, values her
day and night . . . as the wise value a yellow pearl.