No Vacancy
I am fixed to you the moment you arrive,
though you were given no say in the choosing.
I live in the mouths of strangers more than your own,
and answer for you in rooms you will never enter.
Cut into stone, I outlast the body;
the old gods hid me like a wound —
for to be known by me is to be owned.
What am I?
You answered. Few do. A place has been held for you — leave a way to be reached.