The potter’s wheel

I've put love on a potter's wheel
applied it with a sprinkling of words
shaped terracotta like a goldsmith
held their bars their molten innards.

Their bodies' ingots shimmering.
Pictures framed with touches of gold leaf.
Till like the climbs of a silver moon
they're etched in my own relief.
 
Sculptured like melting snow
I've felt their pearls slip back on the necklace.
And like a tree of blossom.
Alls swept into an ocean - verbless.
Like a vessel smashed into a million pieces.