Tear

it glistens … can you see? do you see that little drop - the tiny streak that writes your name upon my visage - that etches it’s damp and dour reality onto what the mirror shines back at me each day? do you grasp all the wonder and regret that floats there? do you know the dazzling eyes represented there as I know them? of a green more emerald than olive - shocked with bolts of gold, and glimmering like the sun on the spires of Oz … oh, the limitless moments I have bartered plunging their dark mysteries - swimming their exquisite madness joined to their dreams and yearnings and crazy, callow craves … such a wee drip there, a-cheek - diminutive and inconsequential a tiny, briny bead of ocular insignificance, yet it roils with the sad sobs of my marrow and holds the wonders and wilds of my spirit … the ache of my squandered passions ply its deepest limits swirling with an id, misunderstood, and a life of chaotic endeavors and endless imaginings ... how many such beads of moisture have trickled there for your sake - dropping to careless insignificance on a cold surface below? an ocean could not hold all the wasted weep that has dangled there without name or number and held the empty promise of your cares … the priceless validation of mortality the crushing agony of deliverance the haunting terror of indifference and lack the sublime sorrows of sweet passions given to a lie the awkward fear of a gift in absence the sacred apprehension of a hope, held the wondrous horror that true love may yet be real the divine grief that it may NOT be every minute, moment and mind each elegant instance and iteration every tender toil and touch and temperament swims to substance there in that drop and is the liquid legitimacy of all that I have been and ever shall be yet all it is to YOU is an answer … and one more shining, shimmering bleakly blessed place for you to find … your reflection.