ATLAS: do not talk to me of the weight of the world,
nor its people’s hearts. you know nothing of endurance.
the heavens are heavy and my shoulders ache.
i am tired.
APHRODITE: you think holding the earth is enough?
you think you are close to them just because they rest on
your back? you know nothing of their pain. do you even remember
how tears taste?
ATLAS: i know pain. i know bruises that last centuries,
bone deep and digging like claws, burrowing like worms
through body structure-
APHRODITE: -you know standing still, rigid, a statue in body
and soul alike / you know the exact weight of the human heart
x 7 billion. you do not know how it feels to watch as they burn in place,
how it feels to see them fall; down / in love / to their deaths.
ATLAS: i carry them in life and death. my dear, your hands
are soft; they do not understand the strength it takes to balance
oceans on knuckles and land against muscle.
APHRODITE: my hands are soft because they hold hearts
as easily as you hold the world, and hearts, in their own way, are worlds.
i know strength. better yet, i know how easily strength crumbles
and i know how to guide through the breaking. do not equate soft
with weak. they are not the same thing.
l.s. | APHRODITE vs ATLAS: on the subject of strength© 2016