Pain and tears
Push at my eyes.
I want to squeeze them out,
Like a pregnant woman
Longs for the birth of her child.
The pressure builds up—
Tiny volcanoes of molten fluid,
Slivers of fragmented glass,
Wanting out, wanting relief,
Wanting, wanting.
It’s a wave, a tide, a rhythm;
A persistence, like the salesman at your door.
I close the blinds to hide my eyes,
But the banging on the door continues—
Don’t they know I’m not here?
These tears are interlopers,
Unwanted guests.
I want to fall on them—
Drunken abandonment—
Crush them, swallow them.
The one who sheds them
Lives with them for a while: mortal.
The one who brings them
Lives forever, in my sleep,
And in all hearts.