Made of Stone

I do not want to die with untarnished skin
not as uncracked marble that yearned to be a masterpiece
but as a battlefield of limestone that has waged war
against the strike of a chisel.
Hew me away until I am not but the sediment
that makes up a mountain. Until my skin is scored
with trails travelled by your fingertips. Until
the art of destruction makes me exquisite.