HAIBUN: The Weight of Gold

The Weight of Gold
        —for Katie, but mostly for Joyce

The earrings are 22 karat, soft as longing.
Bought in Cochin four months after Katie's body cooled,
but chosen for Joyce, who died a few months later,
just before I flew to India.

        a nose-ring shop
        on Gandhi Boulevard—
        my own pierced memories

In Kerala, I wore them as proof of continuity.
I slept with them, touched them when I forgot
who or what I'd lost that day.

Each morning they reminded me—grief isn't cumulative,

but it multiplies in silence.

They dangle now with their tiny-faceted diamonds blinking
like conspirators in candlelight. Hard to notice,
but they know what they carry.

I don't wear them for show. I wear them for ballast.
To keep my head from floating into the empty space
where their voices used to be.

At customs, no one questions me.
No one ever does.

        airport chapel
        the votive flickers
        for someone else's loss

haikuKATHA #52, Feb 2026