Idol

You are so precious.

Your blood is molten gold.

Your tears—liquid diamonds.

And me, drinking from those dazzling jeweled lips.

Sipping at shimmering streams of silver sweat.

A temple of gems and valued metal

Aesthetic, beautiful and strong.

And I’m a collector of fine things.

I’m worshiping at your altar.

You, platinum priceless personage.

Come.

Bless me with yourself.

Drape and deck me in the finery that is you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written back in September 2001. The height of stupidity and infatuation.  Talk about being blinded by what you WANT to see.

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