None wanted you when I loved you,
For they said that you were too mean,
An eagle that feasted on flesh
And could not be bothered to preen.

Though I discerned your inner jewel,
They saw only the rough of you.
I cut you with my expertise
And your own luster consumed you.

I made you see that you’re wondrous,
The meteor, not the crater,
Your otherworldly charm. You’re an
Infidel to your creator,

For now that I have made fine art,
The art says that it was not made.
You owe so much to my tender love
You immediately betrayed.