Bones Susan McKeown Hoard all my hoardings in little glass jars in a room where I won't let anyone go lest they put their hands on things all over my heart and my colours and charcoal Don't spill my bones my precious stones once belonged to a girl too gullible to ever be taken for serious mettle so don't throw the dirt away Dirt in my nails while I'm scavenging pieces I'm searching for evidence some part of life I can claim some people seduce you with stories and old myths to live by Wrench through my hair with such anger I break off a gold tooth of my haircomb ornament shining finding wet with my tears so don't throw the dirt away Defied I'm tongue tied when I try to explain how I feel so foreign all blushed with emotion and rough terminology laced up with language o lest you forget me Here is a remnant of what I once was to you wrap it in linen keep it in the shade with a lock of my hair in a box to remember and don't throw the dirt away