And then the tears come down
Streaming down
One droplet at a time

And then my heart feels heavy
And dense and light
Serendipitous

And then I dance with the tears
Like they're pieces of art
Colored and nuanced and warm

And then the tears come down
Streaming down
One hurt at a time

And then I write out the emotions
With a thin fragile pencil
Testing my own prophetic sense

And then my mind gets foggy
And I talk out loud to myself
Under my pink bedsheets

And then the tears come down
Streaming down
Then they pause for a moment

Caged inside a cardboard box
Sealed three times but still
Marked handle with care

That’s when the tears turn into memories
Felt memories
Flashing one at a time

Like some Indie movie
The memories flow in a blur
Lost friends in parking lots

Friends sipping mountaintops chai
Green Bench talks
Hammocks swinging

That’s when the tears become a dance
And the memories a Trance
Tingling fingers

Long pleated skirts
Polluted Brooklyn streets
Beards against my chest

And then the tears begin again
Serendipitous, lonely
Becoming a loss

And me under my pink sheets
I let the tears mourn my loss
As I recapitulate the past
Turned in memories

And then the feelings come back
Lost art those memories
A simple sudden awakening of my unconscious

The hurt, the loneliness
The pain
Heart, vision, heart, mind
Washed away in a puddle of
Tears