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In mourning time - Architecture of a tear

It starts out a tiny thought
stretching carelessly and quietly
through each nerve ending...
touching every blood vein, making way
through each organ until
it reaches your heart.

Now your heart is heavy, and feels
that it can hold no more
and this tiny thing has turned in to
this monumental moment
this grand, shining experience,
too rare to discard
too painful to appreciate,
heart traveling to your head
face flushed red until
your head and face can hold no more.

The journey of liquid streams from your eyes
all the pent up anger, sadness and mourning
pouring out, without beginning or end
stinging your hot, red cheeks
and you're unable to stop
as it goes on and on, each drop
taking a load off your heart.

The hot lava flows until you're all used up.
Would you die for me? He said.
You've already answered his question
with a river of tears, noticing that
this feeling is just like being in love.


Creeping Through The Cellar Door
Stepparenting Column

Latest Month

February 2019


Here is Belladonna, the Lady of the Rocks,
The lady of situations.
Here is the man with three staves, and here the Wheel,
And here is the one-eyed merchant, and this card
Which is blank, is something that he carries on his back,
Which I am forbidden to see. I do not find
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
I see crowds of people, walking round in a ring.
Thank you. If you see dear Mrs. Equitone,
Tell her I bring the horoscope myself;

One must be so careful these days.
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