Mausoleum

[Ar****]

The bones of the dead
Are silent and knowing.
Their fingers part the gentle dirt;
Their bodies and the roots.

Every stone will tell a story.
Every name a stern, locked life.

If you played me like a tape,
If you read me like a book,
Is it truly better than
When I had given all to you—
The all of me I loved to give?

My *** will tell a story, too.
The throes of history within me,
Waiting at your beck and call.
Women who ran and men who fought
And *** who loved and cousins who knew
What history I’d soon become;
What finite life would make of me.

And then you.

A chisel to this marble heart;
As malleable as my soft will
When cupped within your hands.

At my heart, I knew of power
And loved to pretend I had none:
With you, I truly don’t.

A mass of lightning and the stars
The trees that trace upon my lips
With feeling words a mouth can’t speak;
The flower that I set aside
And by your wish, let wither;
All I have done is for myself,
But every compass needs a star.

Lady,
You, a mausoleum;
You, a chisel,
You, my soul—

In the quiet night I offer
But these very lines are blurred;
I know not for, but still I give;
I know not why, but still I bow.

And if these ardent pleas displease you;
Bury me with my sweet bones—
Toss me into starlit skies
And leave me on the mountain, searching
For your distant frame.

I have no further place to hide
All I wish to tell you;
Your barest wish becomes my law.

I open up my pale palm
And look to you to guide me.

[Ar****]

I can’t edit this? Anyone know why?

[ge****]

4 hours ago, TessaDulaine said:

I can’t edit this? Anyone know why?

Not sure: you may have to delete and repost.

However: you write good. Keep it up!

[Deleted Member]

Can we talk a lil bit 👌🏾