final requests

you ask of me one more thing: will i hold this grief for you?
a small thing, i measure it's weight. watching it as it expands.
it engulfs me; this small thing measured between finger and thumb;
it's elasticity, hypnotic. sands stain my eyes.

i ask myself of myself one more thing: how quickly will it pass.
as long as it takes an angel to dance on a ball of string
that reaches to the moon and back again. as long
as it takes the stars to remember how to twinkle.
as long as i hold onto it. thats how long
it lasts.