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
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
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,
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.
I only found the pearls fine
Mixed in with the spikes.
Together, it was beautiful.
Without them, it would have been just another necklace.