it is now:
when my strength is needed
	most,
among the disenfranchised,
among those who will struggle
	alone.

it is my privilege
to be an expatriate
and make a magnetically
	resonant living,

but it is my duty
to remain at home
and make my living
	supporting others

so that they may
enjoy the privileges
that i am free
to choose
or not.

when i was twelve,
i wanted to read
about someone like me.

and when i was sixteen,
no one could see the me in she,
because we were too old, i guess.

but the we of me was real to me,
and i recalled what they would not
about coming to that age.

it makes me wonder
if frances would remember
by the age of sixteen,

that she once was f. jasmine,
or would she forget all she was
when she was twelve?

the rain’s voice is haunting
as i need it to be.
the sound curves around me
as my breath shortens.
the heavy weight lifts off my chest
as i ascend to the clouds.
the air thins.

i must be weightless.

i can’t breathe (in this room)
as i borrow time (for me).
i feel my lips dehydrate
as i gape silently for forty.
i grab my hair by the fistful
as my mate returns (and stares, i’m sure).
i could be in heaven.

i must be weightless.

this rain is made of
passion that melts my ears.

i must be weightless.

i am
i am
i am.