tears reflect eyes

it was dawn

when i met my creator

and he asked

why did i undo

what he did

and i said i meant

to go quietly

and not bother anyone

but i made such a mess

in the beginning

with all that fluid and form

and i was wailing and

kept doing it when i was six

when i fell and broke a leg

and thirteen when i was told

no one wanted to dance with

a limped leg always out of beat

and eighteen when i was fully bloom

but still a bud

of reverse birth – small and never

out fully to see sun or shadows

just flatness like a life line

not living

twenty three when i met my first

love and we made love

and it made us

twenty five when i was young and happy

and i was confident i was doing it

really it

all of it

whatever it was that people

told me i could and would do

it

me

and it

together

twenty eight when she said she

couldn’t be with me any longer because

she wanted something else

something she couldn’t describe

something less foggy

like morning

that burned the dew

thirty one when i was fired

thirty three when i burned my face

with a pot of oil

thirty four when i was told that my tear ducts

wouldn’t full reform

thirty five when i tried the first time

but made too much noise

and far too much fluid that i slipped

thirty six when i tried again with the advice

that it took at least 10000 hours to be

an expert at something

and i was something

something else than i thought

and now here

in front of him

and he looks at me

leaning against the sun

with whiteness around

and cries blue skies

and empty, ugly eyes