Mezzo Forte
what if i am not enough? because he
is so much i dream of holding
in my hand, knotting
my fingers through and through like
thread binding gilded pages of
fairytales and sonnets. but what if
i am too heavy, too
for the thread; so it snaps, and
the book unravels before it's made. what if
i sink like a stone, eroded in
the ocean while he rides the waves;
who will see me then? who will care
to know me and what i could have become if
my marble didn't disappear into
salt for the sea. i think he is so much more
than i could hope to be, so i wish on eyelashes
that he will notice tiny, muted me.