Sparkle

She glitters on, unfazed at the touch
of human skin; as he mulls holding her with
jittery fingertips. He wonders
what a hole she would make in his pocket,
yet considering she would be totally worth it.
She looks around, scoffing at her peers;
they can only stare back, green with envy
for she carries that crystal, that chunk of ‘ice’
fit only for the hand of a queen.
She spends a quiet moment on her silky berth,
made of scarlet felt and velvet soft,
as she preps herself for the big moment;
for when the teary eyed, gorgeous dame
beholds meekly her ravishing beauty
and then looks back at the babbling fool,
who now holds her hand, trembling, unsure;
simply willing to trade one beauty away
to have and hold another for life.