Golden Boy

You were our shiny penny. We put jam on a silver spoon and made you open your mouth. You clamped down hard, not releasing.

We poured gallons of viscous, golden love over you, hard earned love, so that you could polish your brilliance and line your nest, like a magpie, with glittering reasons for everyone to admire you.

When you tarnished, we poured more gold on you, layer upon layer, it seemed to brighten you, temporarily.

But, as each layer hardened, the definition in your features began to obscure and your senses faded.

First you closed your eyes, no longer able to see what was happening and then your ears filled with syrupy gloop and our voices became too feint. Midas’ gift tasted bad and forced you to shut your mouth, so you didn’t speak to us anymore. In the end, barely able to breathe, you lost touch.