Dross

I wrapped a year around your neck and placed two decades inside the amulet that swings from it. All was accomplished as you slept. Delicate things that have yet to break their skin lack power to wonder past the morrow. Why should the terrors of a gnarled hand and a dime eye spoil their daring? Far be it from me to withhold the glory of the vine. Let them imbibe and spin until they fall. Ambling in the mist of a fresh dawn is a gift without a ribbon. Not one leaf was permitted to touch any coloration of brown nor dry out. A pervasive suppleness was splayed before their eyes. Plump and ready were their sun and moon. They would tarry only as a game, because everything was catered to the moment. Things beneath the zenith of beauty were cordoned off. Furthermore, it was my good pleasure to enjoin to them one prolonged season of bursting fruits. Oh my sweet pets! Little creatures of endless petition stretched out to me all the day long, and I did answer. When was it that your eyes narrowed? How did your brow come to fold into displeasure? Once I was seen of you, a corruption broke forth like a sudden rash. When I stood close to one, the other secretly brewed with anger. Boils for jealousy, puss for covetousness. For this cause I turned your foot backward. Running effortlessly has become a memory with teeth. I drew your mouth downward and hollowed out your cheeks. If this were not enough, I plucked choice strands of hair from your vanity spots. They looked to their garden that was now beset by locusts. Let your tears splash upon the stones. Your lament will be carried away by the nocturnal bird. Now go find warmth by fire or concealment. The angel is dispatched for next steps.