Alchemical Love

My self, a sizable metal
Of great density
Cannot be transmuted
Into gleaming gold
For the pleasure of others

Outside this metal,
Lies my symbolic dream
Storming through the small vial
Where they are kept,
Later to be admixed with my melted metal
Into an intoxicating concoction
Which hardly resembles gold

Is it your hands grasping my vial,
Unaware of my dreams
My composition is unknown  to you
Proud Alchemist
Who handles me so carelessly,
That you’ll never know gold
Comprised of me

Other alchemist initially
Pour out my depths with intrigue,
Perusing every nuance of my dreams
Clutching my core, the metal alloy
You begin to devilishly pour out all my dreams,
Forgetting those essential parts of me
Your eyes are lustfully set on the gold
Deprived of my mystery


I have been so mishandled
Yet, I still have repeated visions
Of the perfect alchemist who will
Shape me with reverence,not lust
Creating a fine block of gold
Filled to the brim with my palpable essence
Where can this gold reside, except
Within the hands of an alchemist
Who will someday be known

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