The mourning after

Of sighs and crying tears

She cried a tear

and it came crying.

As if somehow

it was implying,

it was sadder than her,

madder than her,

for crying tears

are rarely more than water.

So when it cried

the tears were

 what no one else taught her.

She knelt on grass

and it bent, blackened.

As if grass could ever

blacken with a touch...

you think to yourself,

but blacken it did,

as if somehow

it wanted to say

so much...

She sighed a sigh

a sigh so potent,

it could have blown

the stone

away,

beleaguering her wish to stay.

But we know sighs

are rarely more than air,

ephemeral, unfair.

But this one lingered,

like heavy,

opulent perfume

and it decided

to consume

her and her crying tears,

lilting her to her doom, through slow, soft years...

Reviews

[Antonio Valentino]

so great to see you posting again my wonderful friend.. youve been missed dearly.. love this as all the rest..

forever my favorite

:)