“You can’t fold paper more than seven times”

They say

Many trapped years would leak

If you cut through the trunks of my fingertips

So it’s safe to say that the pages where my tears spill like ink and I

Share a distant relation

Each on a corner of the universe’s family tree

But despite our suffocating similarities

I possess an out worldly flexibility

“You can’t fold paper more than seven times”

Is perhaps a foolish myth

Unlike my cousin thrice-removed

I can make myself as tiny as you’d please

There aren’t limits to my smallness

If you promise to hug me behind your ribs

One of which has been missing

Since they planted me

So I won’t surprise you when I vow

I’ll gladly fold myself in seven

Being miserable, but with you

Is the closest I can get to heaven