Oceans bloom in my eyes
And rivers start their journey at the corners.
Water travels over cheek bones and into nose crevices.
A salty residue paints lines of weariness over my skin.
There is exhaustion in my exhalations.
There is surprise in the inhalations.
Streams blossom on my face and curve around
What used to be a smile.
The slow decay of dancing lips left behind a graveyard stump,
Now quivering and becoming wet.
From the chin, drips a steady, silly row of teardrops:
"Drip-drop, drip-drop," they muster as they fall to the ground.
Each one is a silent prayer, a passive pleading,
"Please, won't you come back to life?"
Come back to me?
I bring my hand to my mouth and into it
I begin to whisper the 22nd Psalm.
Emotions engulf; I weep
A quiet, sad noise.
Joan, just let him go.
But, my heart beats.
My heart beats.
My heart beats