The waterworks of my eyes
Perform regularly;
Filling every pore in my cheeks.

With a simple sentiment
A tear will shed
And another, and another.

Provoke my inner sensitivities,
And more rivers will flow
Until they reach the ocean of my lips.

With blunt scrutiny too,
My eye will hasten
To water the flowers on my neck.

And love, and love,
And hurt, and pain
All like a citric juice in one’s eyes,
Or the sharp sting of onion,
But not a sad film,
For it should caress the heart
To destroy the stability
And bring forth rain and thunder.  

The waterworks of my eyes
Perform regularly;
Filling every pore in my cheeks.