Sonnet

Once a precious bloom of sweet ivory,

Now a broken, polished bloodstone smashed,

Precious porcelain, broken bone china,

Carbon copy of a diamond; I loathe

Her, my beauty, my bruised, my beloved,

My jewel, by stone fist and pallid pearl tooth,

Is a cracked spyglass, an eyeglass that weeps;

Ruby’s eyes do glitter when she’s beaten,

My darling bleeds violet beneath her skin,

With pure shards of amber and amethyst,

Perish gently with time, from indigo,

Perse, lavender, plum wine, then grey champagne,

To Indian umber, and faded grace,

My lady doth bear a sweet cracked clock face,