put to rest

i am learning
how to dance
in the free space
of open rooms,
having torn down
heavy-made curtains,
crying through locks
kicking the skeletons
out of the closets,
breaking my back
to build scaffold tall
for a proper burial
in my own back yard,
above ground this time.

the small leftover
bits and shards of bone,
sun-bleached white,
picked clean by birds
will drift down
in windy outburst,
and i will gather
this powdered music
in a heavy crock,
ready for the fire,
rendering the soap,
i so desperately need
to complete the act
of coming clean.