Throw it away.
It hangs heavy in your hands.
A broken love all torn and heavy.
Easy to let it slip into the folds of time.
It came there suddenly, the tear in their eye.
Hanging like a beautiful jewel in the corner of the fleshy oyster.
Threatening.
Threatening to tumble, fall and disappear.
Smudge into a cheek or dripped away with fear.
The silence kisses the skin, and darkness breathes upon the neck.
An invasion hurried by the darkest forces.
Throw it away.
Wouldn’t it be better.
The pumping flower struggling to survive.
Wet with dew drops birthed in this moment.
The tears speak of a hurt, unseen yet complete.
A collapse inside like twin towers.
Don’t listen to the breaking.
How can they throw it away.
Something they cannot call their own.
Wouldn’t it be better.
If they stayed?

I find the tears never stop, they just have longer dry spells between the showers……..
“How many rivers of tears must we cry
Before all the deepest wells run dry”
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Indeed, segments of life either bathed or barren. I guess even a million tears will always dry anyway. Glad you liked this one Ivor.
Been loving your moon work recently! (and yes i re-read that moon walk)
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Us humans tend to 😭
Thank you for reading my “Moon” poems 🌚
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I know i do, thank god it makes me human.
And thank you for sharing them. I hope an accompanying solar themed selection is on the cards.
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Yep they will be more .. I’m sure …
Haiku: “Wake Up”
Today birds didn’t sing
Tonight, the moon is silent
Tomorrow needs love
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Peppered with moon dust!
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