Tears are desperate
Creatures.

There is not one
Emotion that drags
Them to my cheeks,
To be collected back
Into the ground.

Water is changing;
Water gives life,
It takes it away.
Water is cold;
Water is destruction.

And yet we thirst
For it; eight hours is
All we can wait for
A drop of a natural
Catastrophe.

The same
Capricious heritage
Carries itself down
My cheeks in a
Wave of emotion.

Water is a desperate
Thing in itself;
It takes an act of
Good will, a loving
Gesture, a death,
And even a tiny
Bee sting for it
To leave us in
A parade of tears.
A droplet is eager
To leave us, it lies
In wait of pain,
Of joy, of any human
Reaction to relieve us
Of the weight of water
And to wildly run away
Laughing, playing,
Praying to fall on
Concrete or soil
And return to whence
We received it.