Three teardrops

In the hollow of my empty room

There was an echo of a ticking clock

And by each second hand a leaking tap

A maddening frequency

Followed by a frightening silence

An aloof reflection of my wretched being

An echo of cold desertion

And the first salty tear dropped

Upon the agonizing twist of my lips

And taste left my tongue

The second cascade trickled

Along the contours of my tender cheeks

And softness left my heart

The last cruel silvery leak

Flooded the valley of my nostrils

And breath left my life.

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6 thoughts on “Three teardrops

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