The Ring Stolen From Me



My fingers are tiny, I don’t even think a size 4 but

the ring it unraveled into 7 diamonds nonetheless floating round

and round my eensy weensy digit.  It was (or rather is) gold 14 karat

diamonds scattered throughout shiny new precious and

intoxicating like love and marriage and romance and pain.


You bastard I came home and the house was a wreck

overturned dressers opened drawers clothes hanging out

the door broken and kicked in and my jewelry box broken in pieces

on the floor.  I walked on clothes and boxes and dirt from your shoes

when you emptied the contents not caring not thinking.


Making a beeline for the place of my ring in it’s place I found the

detritus of a staged assault on security willingness safety peace.

You asshole it took about 15 minutes to scour the house  you were looking

for objects belongings  money  you took jewelry computers  a telescope

and you left behind questions and footprints.  I wish you had just taken

the television.

9 thoughts on “The Ring Stolen From Me

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