Sophia Built Castles

Sophia built castles out of nothing.

She used her hands to mine the clay
She cried her tears to make it mold
She dug her fingers and toes into the earthen slop
Letting it move between her hands and feet,
Letting it become bricks beneath her fingertips
She made those stones.

She grinded the bones of long-dead men--
She spat upon them to make her mortar,
And then, with those intrepid hands
She laid the bones to rest upon the bricks
Letting them melt together, turn to one
Letting them forgo their honor to form the bastion--
She laid those walls.

She adorned those halls with tapestry
She wove the drapes from her flaxen hair
She built a bed from her tattered clothes
And then--she made a pillow from her skin--
Letting her body become her home
In an elegant sort of symbiosis,
Life from death feeding--independently weeding
Sorrow from those castle grounds,
She made her home!

And now she is alone
But she is her own.
For Sophia sees that she
Was always a castle, waiting to be built.