He never saw her value,

the way the sun drew out

the gold in her hair and  her heart,

until it was too late.

Solid,

comforting,

mining worth from the

crumbs he tossed at her feet,

she died to him slowly;

over years of neglect,

the arteries seeking sap

withered and found new source.

He reaches,

but grasps air –

she is falling,

falling,

ore he can no longer touch,

gem he can no longer claim

as his own.