an emerald by day, a ruby by night

her story is one-sided, in that,

there is only one universal truth to her character

her face has two sides, in that,

one half of her view is symmetrical to the other

and yet, she is not simply two-dimensional

nor are her colors found in the rainbow

her edges are blades in shape, and yet,

her touch is gentle

her angles are praised and photo-framed, and yet,

her taste is metal

is she a face without a name, known for her features,

rather than her pain,

or does she come in the form of many: pieces of pigment,

in a kaleidoscopic glass stain?

does she evaporate when overexposed to heat,

or do her particles crystalize, like snowflakes,

without the winter freeze?

is she ruled by emotion and wears her heart on her sleeve,

or does she play hard to get, like autumn leaves

that dance with the breeze?

her personality shifts, like sudden rain on a

sunny forecast day

it isn't so much an indecisive mind, as it is that,

she wants both at the same time

her "wit of tongue" can go from a tangy raspberry,

to an itchy ivy

it isn't so much an irrational mood, as it is that,

she phases with the moon

a wide range of possibilities, in such a microscopic entity

with a depth that reaches the core, scarce of scratches and scorch

a small scale of quantity, in such extensive territory

with a gem as hunted as yours, it's no wonder you're of such short import

endangered, sought after, your spectrum of chameleon colors

magnifying glasses find themselves in a blight, by your subterranean might

ill-favored, soft, somber, their imitations of your empyrean wonder

mystifying facets reveal yourself through light: an emerald by day,

a ruby by night