Tears stream down

caressing one’s cheek,

waking every pore,

creating awareness—

for songs of sorrow

penetrate the movement,

breaking the barrier

with nothing more than

a whisper—

a whimper from the friction.

Glazed eyes fill only to spill over.

Closed eyes postpone another


Eyelids are left speckled with dew.

Quivering lips

create a quake; the vibrations

force the fleshy shells open,

displaying a crimson

web of hurt,

realizing it was sunny all along.

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