The place where tears originate
as substance meets our rain drop
feelings, like waves that reach the
shore dry up, remnants of
momentous beings. A grain of salt
from some word peeling layers back
of wished for sounds, hidden in the
rocks their fortress, buried slightly
in the ground. All that’s left, a quiet
nothing as million thoughts lay
down to die. How could one,
crustraceous being, without a shell
commit to dive. Amidst these breaking
waves and feelings, spilling out with
desperate might a man draws in the
wet sand briefly. May we falter,
just to try