I am molecular.
\nSimple as the water in my glass.
\nWater that fell off peaches.
\nThe glass born in a crucible.
\nA mother that cried at my birth.
\nA tree in the orchard
\nthat knew drought,
\nhad its limbs shorn in a storm.
\nMy body that fights to keep me alive,
\nfrom being lame,
\nfrom dying of exhaustion,
\nso I can say,
\nI have no political party,
\nno religion,
\nno step-by-step method of living.<\/p>\n
Only a heart that is dissolved by water
\nfrom a glass.
\nThat the sun shines on me,
\nwhether it cares or not,
\nthat my life sings about nothing,
\njust the touch of coolness
\nin the evening,
\nthe call of children,
\nthat the grass, bless it,
\nkeeps growing.
\nAnd the timbers inside my house
\nhold up the roof,
\nthat sleep comes eventually
\neven after crying.<\/p>\n
That there is nothing I want
\nexcept the admiration
\nof those I love.
\nFor nothing,
\nfor being excused
\nthat I am no more than a shell
\nbeing pushed up,
\nleft by the sea in its tides,
\nand I linger through twilights
\nwaiting for a hand
\nto pick me up and listen,
\nto the words inside me,
\nsaying,
\nI love you.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am molecular. Simple as the water in my glass. Water that fell off peaches. The glass born in a crucible. A mother that cried…<\/p>\n