You hand me a word, concrete, sharp,

heavy with the weight of meaning.

“Use your magic,” you say.

“Create something special and I promise to stay.”

I swallow the word, let it irritate my soul,

fester its essence deep in my mind.

No one is more surprised than I

when I cough up something viscous, unknown,

covered with the blood of my heart,

the skin of my life.

You wipe away all the superfluous mess,

reveal a pearl, tiny, flawed,

not worth the price I expected you to pay.