Pearls & Spikes

It was time to go, almost
I circled the jewelry stand slowly
Clutching a black lace shirt
And a creamy, soft Obey tee
M was sitting by the books
Waiting and silent

I stared at the jewelry.
Gently fingering the long earrings,
The delicate pieces
Waiting for something to jump out
To speak to me

Any of it might have been fine
But I felt the need for something
Specific,
Something to be mine
Then there it was:

A chunky mix of delicate and sharp
Pearls & spikes
Circle & dagger

I ran my fingers across the white balls
The black spikes

Maybe I was in a bit of a daze
The cashier with the long, messy locks
Came over to ask if he could help
He had one perfect curl
Resting against his neck tattoo.
The rest was a tangled and beautiful wreck.
I looked up at him but was quiet,
With a ‘thank you, I’m fine’

I pictured the necklace, resting heavy,
But not too heavy,
On my collarbone

Glanced over my shoulder
And M was still there,
Sitting, silent
The white ear buds dangled
From his ears
A sharp contrast from the black
Of his hat, of his jacket

I ran my fingers across the soft white pearls,
Again, the sharp black spike
Pulled the necklace off the stand
Quickly, I walked back to the shirts
Placed the Obey tee back on the pile

The necklace was it.
It was specific, if only to me.
Mine.
I only found the pearls fine
Mixed in with the spikes.
Together, it was beautiful.

Without them, it would have been just another necklace.