My veins like glass shards
   itch beneath a memory
of aging brackish memories.


I couldn't lift my arms for they
fell like a breathless moment
                                 in a forest of regrets.  
    
                     No one heard them descend,
they just bled sap slowly, till all was hollow.

And all that was left was a time that fell,
                                      and the cuts where silent.

I was a moment standing in grandeur,
        but beneath it didn't really matter
                             I
                         was a hollow moment,
crumbling beneath life's weight.

Though I wanted to have
each and every patch of earth,
Now it’s clear I need none.
I am good to go with empty hands.
But one that has none
doesn’t that have any pain?
No skin nor veins?

Going with empty hands
but with feelings and with faith.
Perhaps the belief puts weight
more than the mass of any land!

my body weighs more than a number.

my body is the weight of the sea -- the stars, moon, and galaxies dancing around the corners of my soul.

my body weighs more than a number.

my worth is the airplane rides, deep conversations, dancing, laughing, crying.

my body weighs more than a number.

my legs have taken me across worlds of sea, land, and mountains.
my arms have hugged. my lips have kissed. my hair has been washed in salt water and seaweed. my fingers have playing white and black keys, painted, created and traced the corners of his palms.

my body weighs more than a number.
my value weighs more than a number.
I am m o r e than a number.

Dear book weight,
I dreamt of you
As my sweet fate

Dressed all on burgundy
Bragged of those elegant seams
Those that made you candy

And as foolish as it seems
A great desire awoke in me

I had no money to spare
Maybe,
Only if I miss my bread

So in a summer night
I swapped three meals
for your delight

"It is not even windy,"
My mother said,
"why would you want that instead?"

"I dream of windy nights,"
I replied
"one day my pages will try to fly"

What if my thoughts have no ground?
Who will plant True words in my mouth?

Only something heavy enough
Something that could make me tough

You!
My elegant book weight
The things I'd do for you
Throw my phone out the gate
'cause my purse can hold a few

Off it goes
On the rue

Now come on
Inside my purse

~          *           ~

Dear book weight,
It's January and its Winds
They've come to haunt me

But they don't know
I am ready

No longer a boat without anchor
You hold me down on earth
No longer in need of my rancor
to daunt me from my death