Tears

I see you've been crying again,

those dry channels from your eyes

run to cheeks puffed red,

and your skin is scarred by tissues

(micro-chasms of stressed blood

run too close to the surface.)

Via The Pills, or The Lack,

the unstrung feelings unravelled,

you were taking them back,

untrapping them in each drop,

but soaking them with your

hooded pillow in the dark.

You broke The Treaty with the big D,

and cried in my eyes till I stung,

your tears more voluminous with each blink

drowning the sinkhole of my mouth

- an undiverted question mark

I had to wipe from my eyes.

But then it turned incidental,

like milk in the sun,

or a flaccid exclamation

of a love no longer valid

and a hunger to sell

our house of faded dreams.

I became an abstraction in your mind,

a distraction in your bed;

the infraction of my head,

enough to make you blind.