Amber Prison

It is called elektron, bussztyn. You know it as amber, I said, and pointed to my necklace--a spider caught forever with one leg raised.

It's a prison, she said.

She was his prison with her golden eyes and white hands. I wanted to show her his favorite piece--the copulating flies.

The Pearl

Margarite, the pearl.
She was his hidden gem, or so he claimed.
I related her more to the monstrous carbuncle that led to the birth of the pearl
I’d seen it myself how the oyster had a piece of polished shell forced into its gonads, and months later this surgical rape would result in a shiny round gem that is symbolic of all things pure and beautiful.
Then am I the oyster?
I had opened Henry to love and Fate decided to screw me and give him to her.

Diamond's Are a Girl's Best Friend

The sun’s white light hit the side of the mixed-cut diamond.
Between the tweezers under the lamp, magnified against black cloth
it had gleamed like ice from a virgin glacier. I kept it a week
before reporting it was flawless and spectacular.
Among the teapots and crustless sandwiches, she rippled her nails and a
rainbow danced against her white dress
to the oooohs of another well-wisher. Her smile was full of champagne.
I hated her.

Jet

He’d finally found the one worthy of wearing his grandmother’s priceless antique necklace.

Jet;
An empty hell.

There was a glimmer of hope to light the dark before, but not anymore.

Was the room this hot before?

Surely if she were in hell there’d be the brilliant glow of the consuming fires that awaited her, but for her even hell would lay empty; its fire entombed.