Let Them Look beads there are pieces brought out

there are pieces brought out only at certain hours

just enough to cling

The street is quiet in that way that makes every sound feel placed

The stones settle into themselves

To wear it is to call upon the ancient currents

Let Them Look beads there are pieces brought outThe princess fastens the necklace herself. No attendants tonight. No second opinions. Just the soft click of metal and the weight settling where it should, deliberate and exact. She adjusts it once not out of doubt, but precision. The chains fall in careful lines, each one catching the light differently as she moves. Downstairs, theyre already waiting. She knows the rhythm of it the pause when she enters, the way conversations falter just slightly