rough stone

an rough stone decided to become a pearl

every day it reshaped itself, smoothing its edges

polishing the surface, cutting through the wedges

every day it woke up and went to bed thinking about this search

: to drop the opacity, to lose some girth

the little stone wanted to shine and adorn beautiful necks

it wanted to be seen, desired, admired

it dreamed about the day when it would occupy

its place in the sun

but then… in the end of the run

the stone, all polished and formless cried

when it saw that the pearl dream had died

desperate, it cursed the heavens

the seas, the earth

even after all this effort

its paradise ceased before birth

… it didn’t see that behind

its rough structure

there was no pearl

but the indescribable shine

of a diamond