Soul Stones

We swallow boulders: (lead words, molasses covered prejudice, glass shards of promises long broken) Mouths open wide and heads tipped back like Hawaiian fire eaters. Chipped teeth are bits of porcelain history, sliding down our throats in rivers of neglect and acid. The stones settle, BOOM... BOOM... BOOM... Our stomachs are filled up, anvil weight 'till we can hardly sit, hardly stand, or walk. We drag our feet in pain, as the quiet indicator that we've had rocks for breakfast, lunch, dinner, for years, in the hopes that someone will recognize the broken concrete footprints behind us and touch us gently on the forearm: "Honey, are you alright?" (and isn't it the first sweet trickle of kind words that crumble the already cracking facade?) There's no stopping the torrent then, tsunami tears and a heaving, convulsing to the point of cathartic vomit- boulders of every shape and size tumbling out of our mouths and filling the room; broken teeth and granite eyes until we no longer see the floor, the walls... And then serenity. The hand has moved to the shoulder, forming a universal hug. "I'm here now... and you're ok." We stand up, together, and leave that room, a soundless void of yesterday, to absorb the impermeability of stones, carrying our gait buoyant, without gravity. No weight at all now, and barely a second glance, but to turn out the light - and lock the door behind us...