these tears welling up in my eyes, seem to rise up like yeast –
fluctuating changes accordingly to life circumstances; the circumference
of love appears diminished, hiding deep within the confines of a
bottle. that sanctuary of liquid comfort –
                                           a quiet solace, in a fleeting
sense of bravado that comes with embracing an intoxicating high.

bred amidst the layers of plump cushions of anxiety and worry –
here again, those tears once again threaten to surface like yeast, but
a persistent sense of restraint lingers. a barrier obstructs the natural
flow of my tears –

                                                  a yeast infection!