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.