I have been told many things are precious outside the heart,
the heirlooms we pass down in the form of jewels,
ornamenting our next generation with style and impeccable grace.
We wear our victories with pride. Our parents wished for it.
That we would stand tall, dress ourselves in greater knowledge,
dance words, build muscle strong bones. Fight in the context
of a single frame of reference. How strong and weary we have become.
The perfection of body and the lack of soul.
At midday and before and after,
I see bodies growing faster than hearts
still pure, fresh in youth.
Vulnerable, present yearning to discover
their place among what lives and dies.
What can I tell them besides learn without the teachers, learn without me.
We are nothing besides a body still searching for what we own.