Weighs like
a tear drop sliding down pale white,
a dappled stone I found on Sanibel Island,
sunk down, deep in my pocket.

Perhaps weighs like
time:
heavy with silence
soaked in emotion,
like colored dye bleeding into white linens.

Yes, a word weighs like
time, and time weighs like stones,
I strain to hold in my palms the encumbering moment,
after you utter,
"Look, Liz, I have to be
Honest."

And you caste the word like a rock
into the lake
and watch it fall
deep, deep, deep
weighed down.

A stone that remains sunk still
in my pocket.