She never took
her ring off
whenever she washed her
grimy slimy thing of
two starfishes resting
under the cascading purity
of Tap. but, the ring
was still there; tethered
onto the starfish's arm;
unctuous like granite counter tops
(smeared lavishly with
Cold-Pressed
Extra Virgin Olive Oil)
was the coat the creatures bore,
glazed to perfection.

The ring wasn't so lucky, though:
stripped of its zirconia mask
(like a lady wipes off her make-up)
only to reveal the grime and lime
of Forever Ago--

proof of the Wear and Tear.