I bought a ring second hand; spur of the moment, I suppose, though more a spare moment for the glimpse that caught my eye.
It’d won my gaze, with dull shine and a haze and all the ways in which I’d never seen before; almost never before.
I asked for a price, a fair price I did pay. My curiosities enveloping, my satisfaction untamed, then just as that, I took it away.
I put the ring upon my finger, of course the ring did turn blue. My eyes didn’t brighten, my heart remain unlightened; because, I felt like it knew.
And then a thought did come to mind, had it worn that shade before?
Second hand to me, and to them before that – does it know another feeling? Does it know love? Or its meaning?
Had it worn rage like vermilion or sapphire? Had it worn pain like an unfilled desire?
And happiness, like a star far away; like saudade, a mind made, for the past that never stayed.
Sadness, anger, so many moods, but tell me mood ring;
How are you?