The Last Tear

Still hidden underneath your stunning face A tear almost touches the corner of your eye. I tentatively kiss it as it shows itself with grace ... and suddenly you start to cry. Tomorrow is a word best left for the poet For only they truly dare to to face it While us, ignorant lovers, would just try to slow it, To make it eternal, or just... well... replace it. In bed and love, we use the other tongue, The one that explores your hidden desire And passionately whispers, "we're still young," Making me forget tomorrow's fate that is so dire.