Each tear that fell
from crushed
moons of your face,
stabbed me,
broke and split
into a thousand pains.
But I held out my arms,
and not one did I miss,
no, not one pain.
And if I don't let
you soak into me
and bring me up,
if I don't let you seep
deep into me
and teach me,
then you can cry in
the morning to the sun,
and tell him to rise up
and burn me away.
