River Worn

At the bed of a murky river

I found you wet and worn,

a rare gem beaten to the silt

beneath the hooves of a wild horse.

Like a secret,   a sacred poem,

I  held  you in my palm

rubbed you smooth and honed,

a refined diamond in my hand.

At the bay of obsession you slipped

from my grip lost forever to the

inlets gaping mouth.

How weak we were at the final kiss

something we wanted to be strong for.