weights

haven't you ever lifted a dwarf planet? haven't you ever
had to roll the stone away from the mouth of a tomb?
in the fish bowl we took turns hoisting each other
above our heads. flight is about betraying the ground.
for centuries witches have flown. gathered in 
the pickled woods & spoke incantations until
our bodies lifted. moths before a fire. i used to lift weights 
at the gym in an attempt to become a mountain.
stared into the mirror. men came & left. i was holding
the barbells wrong. i strained my muscles. laid in bed
for weeks after. the sinews all screaming, "no more."
i returned though. cradled heavy. i am a caretaker 
of weights. physical & all-encompassing. once, 
on a date with a man he took out his skeleton & said,
"this is for you to polish." it was heavier than it looked
but i did what he asked. i want to not always do
what someone asks but my body says, "let's be carriers."
a paper weight where my heart should be. i pluck papers
from a gust of wind. i break the spine of books. 
the tomb was not empty. the tomb was full of teeth
there was just no easy way to say that to a crowd
of mourning people. when i say i am a prophet i mean
i am coming to tell you only what you want to hear.
we are saved. we are saved & all you have to do is 
ferry this skull full of candles frmo door to door
to door until the light goes out & the whole world midnight.