Silver is the moon; for the poet the body of the beloved is silver. Silver is the measure of authenticity. Silver hair a mark of responsibility. Silver is silent. It surfaces with a sparkle and shine. Silver is in between the coveted and the cursed, the fake and the real, the rich and the poor, the rare and the abundant, willing to be drawn to the wire. It's soft like silk, sweet like sugar, sharp like a dagger. It colours your cars, gadgets, public transport, lamp-posts yet we want more. An ocean of silver, does it exist? We find out.
