He treats her like gold they say.
I don’t know what this feels like.
Is she to be polished and kept hidden from thieving eyes?
Is she to be traded and bartered over?
Is she an elusive prize to kill for?
I may wish to never be treated as gold. To be prized, bartered, polished or hidden…robs me. There has been enough of that crime.
He treats her like gold…I am left with sorrow for her.