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