Were I still to believe this tear
to be everything,
All would be lost.
Sorrow that swallowed the world-
the familiar swimming channel.
Invisible were the rainbows
forming
in minute globes of salt water
from my own eyes.
Illusion is a convincing storyteller.
Were I still to believe,
I could not consider that, perhaps,
I am as much a fascination for the juncos,
as they for me.
Laughter pushes streams down
pink cheeks
too.
And how it does bubble up~

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