To live a day in the life of a locket. To lay across the breast near the heart, feeling beats dance with mirthful breath. To be able to gaze up at any moment and behold Love’s face. To allow chestnut hair to fall upon and caress. To be there always…
But cold is the bond that clasps gold, and infinite the void between it and soul. For what love can a locket hold? Hallow chambers of memory, inadequately span the silver sea. Thus, lockets and hearts, destined to be, opened and closed eternally…
Unmasked Unfiltered 