You know me.
I have been compared to a blurry representation of frozen spittle in the dirt under one’s shoe
Yet, my color has also been compared to the greatest leader’s fine silks and his precious tiger’s cobalt eyes.
I come from a big family. Corundum, my mother, is the base for the most royale of gems and still involved in the grinding of the very opticals you wear everyday.
Father, Titanium is the master of my strength. Awarding me with 9/10ths of the strength of the hardest perfection that is my gemstone cousin.
Formed in the deep silence of the canals under our very feet, thrusted up by the Earth’s boiling magma.
I have been weathered, beaten, thrusted and stolen from homes by many storms.
Though I have been royally chartered by the most galient soldiers known to man as gravity and water.
I have been hidden under mountains of rocky sediment, mere feet below the mud under your boots and in the sludge you carry in your mining tray
I have been found by the most devoted Sri Lanken man, the most rapacious of the Kashmire people, a casual Eastern Australian representative or a by-product of a Bermese excursion for my red sister.
My colors, praised by even the purest blue bird known to planet Earth
Harboring tones of lush greens, delicate yellows, golden oranges, vast pinks, and royale purples
My hues spread through man’s color wheel; yielding all but one
My red counterpart, my sister of earlier mention, is a lady of Chromium as well as Corundum, allowing for specialization in only the reddest of purples to the orangest of reds.
Worn by the month of September, I represent one of only 12 months out of the human year. I stand proudly in Mothers rings, birthstone necklaces and in 45th wedding anniversary gifts from men to women.
Many people have guessed my power over the years. I’ve been a healer, I’ve been a guide to otherwise unknown truths, I’ve been a clear direction for those with impure thoughts…
I am made out to be what my owner would like me to be. How I fit their needs is what I become. My beauty is in the eye of the beholder. My importance rests in the mind of my keeper.
I will forever be Charles’ gift to Diana, a symbol of great love. An emblem of Neapolitan’s boundless wealth in the eyes of his Josephine. Known as a star among the highest for Bombay’s finest, Mrs. Pickford. And will continue to be the Orient’s largest misplacement.
You know me. As what I am to you. Tell me what you want me to be.
Emma Laughter