Made of Stones

There was a woman and 
she was young and 
she was pretty, 
but no one 
ever told her that. 

She really was not sure 
of anything.
What to do-or what not to-she lived in a glass house 
and in the glass house she was told
not to make too much noise. 
They said 
she could stay there as long as 
the walls didn’t fall down. 
So the woman would sit in the bright white house
and wonder what 
she could do 
so that the walls would stay up.
She lived there after all, and she needed a house 
with walls. 

In the day it was bright 
and at night somehow it was brighter because 
what no one told her 
was that she, 
the girl behind the glass, lit up everything. 
“Stay here” they said. 
“Watch this place darling, 
make it your palace.” they said,
“a lady like you 
deserves one.”

So she stayed where she was and went about
doing whatever she could to keep the grand ivory mansion gleaming. 
She cleaned, she dusted,
she polished. 
The house was always pristine, ready for any guest 
that may come to visit, but
no one ever did. 

The woman had spent her days in a gorgeous place 
and she had a beautiful time 
living there, she truly did because she had so much of everything.
Her silks, her jewels, the music and 
the food.
Though she wondered 
why am I alone 
in this immaculate place?
Everything was ready for
another soul to see 
but the woman never saw anyone see anything.

She knew every piece of 
the palace.
She cleaned every inch of
the glass 
on her own.
One evening she rested on the staircase toying
with a pebble 
she enjoyed the tap it made as it clacked the glass. 
The harder the throw, the louder the tap.
She knew what this place 
was made of, 
what she didn’t know
was that she herself was stronger 
than the beautiful box 
they had put her in.

At night the woman would 
shine brighter than the sun itself and she finally saw why. 
She was made of diamonds. 
That’s why they had asked 
her to stay! 
Not for her own sake but to keep the diamonds safe.
She was a treasure they had
stowed away.

No one ever came because 
the glass 
was too thick 
for them to get through. 
She tossed the pebble
against the glass,
the surface of her pale slender 
self sparkling.
Toss the pebble. Tap. Toss the pebble tap. 

They just wanted to keep a treasure like her from leaving.

“They warned me about the walls,” she said in a whisper that had both the grace of a floating feather and the severity of a lion’s roar. 

The woman stood, clenching the pebble in her palm. 

“They never said it was because I’m the only one who can bring them down.”