Art, Poetry
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Where does a tear hide when it’s afraid?

Where does a tear hide when it’s afraid?

Does it languish in the lid of the of the fleshy sail

or swell in the ducts of the canaliculi

sucked up from the lacrimal sac

born in a duct?

 

And does it first arrive with a meal,

or a hit of sublime sparkling bubbles

canistered in cold faux steel

presented as tin

but known known as aluminum?

 

Or does it come from the juices

that broth and seep from that rare meat steak–

adipose soluble H20–

plastered on the tongue

and absorbed thru the flesh of that chewy mouth skin?

 

For what is a tear?

but the solution of sweat and brow

born thru anguish

and conquered with the bow

now transposed thru the acid

and seeped thru an indestructible wall.

 

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My name is Michael and during my free time I avoid having a day job. Strangely enough, this gives me the freedom to run this blog. I write just about anything that can be considered art. I also occasionally post articles that may or may not be relevant to the theme of this site. You’ve been warned.

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