She speaks with every woman's
mouth, bending words and
wisdom
love hides underneath pressed
linen in her dark cedar chest
festering and growing
tired
she doesn't touch the lock
she placed on her heart long ago
when crushed dust filled her
lungs
opening her mouth she devours
herself whole in the process of finding
peace
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I don't like the last stanza much, the image there disgusts me, but I think it's a good ending, good work.
I would have to say that the first stanza was my favorite. It really opened up the poem, and I think overall this was great.
A good title for this, if you are looking for one, would be "She".
Well done, good work.
-*Twinkles