Seawater on summer
Is what my tears are
When they race down my cheeks;
Hot and salty.
And I knew they did not sidetrack
To evaporate on my lips
But I tasted that bitterness
Caught in my throat
Which my eyes have no power
To splash like the waves
That normally surf my face;
Only accumulate
And let them slam inside me
Repeatedly.
And I wish I did not have to
Watch that movie,
Watch that part of the movie,
Watch that movie's credits rolling,
Repeatedly,
Just to admit
That I cheated on this taste test
And my tears are not salty.
At all.