I gave her a rose
for Valentines; she took it
and told me she had always wanted
a brilliant cut
of that carbon crystal
of the same name. I said
a rose is made of carbon too
and red,
an arrangement of petals
soft to touch
and smells sweet.
But a diamond lasts
forever, she explained,
her eyes transparent,
hopeful; I touched
my pocketbook
and stabbed my heart instead.
*inspired by some rantings of a guy friend.