Jewel

Her body lies bare—
open; her skin,
white-washed in the milk
of a thousand lovers;
her veins, broken blue
threads, skeins

of immobile stone
hardened in fervor
from the blazing furnace.
others hungered
for her to wish herself
into dust, to forget

her own hunger, meld
into the world’s hands
as the word “girl”
in a man’s mouth;
she was born too late,
with her mouth already open

to swallow the starlight
that hungered for her too,
and she will never forget
the first kiss, twenty years old,
she did not sleep that night,
she watched the stars, the light

and how her heart stretched
upwards, waiting to grow old enough
to offer her soul’s raw diamond
on the altar. mother, don’t
call her sorrow because you
cannot melt her,

call her blessed, a childhood
prophecy fulfilled, chosen
woman fortified by flame
and immortalized in heaven’s
ring on the fingers of the goddess,
a hand-picked jewel.

By Amy Lauren

Biography:

Amy Lauren is an organist in Jackson, MS and recipient of a Pushcart and Best of the Net nomination in 2017. Her chapbooks include Prodigal (Bottlecap Press) and God With Us (Headmistress Press), the latter through the semi-finalist prize in the Charlotte Mew Contest.