If I could hold my life
\nin my arms,
\nthe wind would blow through
\nmy fingers.
\nI would feel its draft on my face,
\nI would hear a surf without voices
\nand I would stifle a cry.
\nI feel the weight of nothing!
\nThere are no albums or books.
\nMy heart has no air to breathe!
\nNo one touches me.
\nI am not a story or a song.<\/p>\n
If I sold my life at a yard sale,
\npeople would ask,
\nwhat are you holding?
\nAnd turn away as if I were mad
\nto pretend I had anything to sell.
\nAnd I would mourn a life
\nno one could see, taste or smell.
\nThat it passes away
\nwith nothing to show for it.
\nI would drop my arms,
\nand whatever was my life
\nwould continue
\nto be somewhere in front of me,
\ninvisible
\nand huge,
\nmaybe too big for the universe to catch.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
If I could hold my life in my arms, the wind would blow through my fingers. I would feel its draft on my face, I…<\/p>\n