this is certain- these things i lay at your feet. not heavy things, for perfection weighs more..no, they will be objects to rest in your palm- of substance, none. things of me are shaped in air. vapor. sleep. giants. materials made yet never said. acidic. i am chemical. count on me to collapse, be sporadic, sullen, wet. i evaporate nice, clean and effortlessly the moment you tire of me. and if you grow weak, it's ok for nothing i did or will give you could ever be that heavy.