Friday, April 22, 2005

This Tear Drawn Down

This tear drawn down my cheek
Makes sense to none but me.
How can one who hides his heart,
Who has held still, held still,
And held nothing to be true,
Be moved to anything so real?

Cursed are those that drown themselves,
Drown in the thirst-drenched sea;
Cursed are these that live and rue,
Who drew the sea's disturbance to
Their flesh—thus only are we true.

The tear that draws us down to drown
In syncopated frowns; all expression soon becomes
This one face that in the mirror sees its own disgrace.
We are flesh crying out in the night—
Disembodied, and yet remembering.

Of all that we remember,
this tear will be most true.
Of all that we conceive, and
throw away, and then retrieve,
this tear will prove most true.

Ronald C. Southern
3rd draft: 04/21/05

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Abandon hope, all ye who enter here! (At least put on your socks and pants.)