Silver

I sit atop this ornate stand
my shine and luster polluted by cloth and intrusive hand
As the layer thickens each time
a reminder whispers, you’re that shiny silver … It’s time to be buffed or you’ll be banned
I want to sit alone atop this stand
with no one touching me, slave to my thought, away from that glassy land!
I thrive in this layer of corrosion
It’s the denial that’s been causing the implosion
I’ve been rubbed before, let me relish this familiar note of dysfunction
to reveal the ache, fighting this unbridled chemical reaction
Don’t you see … this patina is what is preserving me
Take it off and I’ll be naked, not having a moment of sanity
It’s this tarnish that conceals years of banish
Don’t Lay me down, sit me up … pour the chemical … cover me
For once, let me savor this darkness, tarnish, seek the inner me
I don’t need the luster, no need to remove this coating from my surface
I’ve been living too long in this facade of epidermis
The glistening rub has removed with it my silvery sheen
I’ve been abiding with it for too long, no longer am I keen
The silver is ever so brighter for that tarnish
Finding solace in your words master Rumi,
“If I’m irritated by every rub, how will I be polished?”