Collapsing emotions
corrode on my
****** perfection.
What was diminishing,
now collecting in a cup
of palmed hands collected.
I wanted to no that of your
miracles,
that even
though tears fell,
you never turned
those now memory to a wine
of hope...
Auschwitz was a million
tears choked,
but you never turned
a single tear
to a vintage of peace.
We just choked on the tears,
and we were a vineyard
of silence.
Each a grape that never reached
maturity.
Instead we fell before we could become
more that we were.
These tears are sour,
and the taste
erodes every fallen tears morality.
