Amber, onyx, amethyst
are displayed in the window,
a lapis lazuli lion and rose
quartz elephant locked
safely behind glass inside.
On the counter in a wicker basket
is a clutch of green marbled
malachite eggs, like those
of an ancient reptilian bird
still waiting, after centuries,
to hatch.
I've already bought you reproductions
of Albinus's copperplate engravings:
skeletons, flayed of flesh and skin,
waltz with cherubim. I've bought you
a golden roofed pagoda, painted
on a Chinese lacquer tray, but
what kind of love would we hatch
if I bought you a green marbled
malachite egg?
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