by Ann Chiappetta
I’ve got diamonds instead of eyes
glittering and bold
I strut along clothed in
gold-spun aspirations
I weave dazzling chains
from the silver shining upon my cheeks
following the path of the shimmering trail
I venture forth with defiant steps
who is she, they ask
follow me, I say
our hands will entwine and
we will become the brilliant cut
together