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Where Are Your Tears

“Her explained” brings an empathy

achievable with beers, or God-willing

some spirit, it appears some spit was lacking

spat after spat, turned cheeks for smacking

I dream of the wretched concept of justice

but this would be filling, “Her willing”

“God explained,” truth restrained until irrelevant

what good should be done in your name?

what change? turn the other cheek

is not our suffering the same?

my God

for my love, or what of the transience?

what’s meant, by my knowledge of oblivion

that one test of the billions

who asked not to be?

what of the end? what form of justice bends you into being

that cold bed, eyes closed for fear of seeing

your shell be contagious to those

that once, no, many times made you feel something, anything

something other than the cold places of your hospital bed

they will cry, those that will wish to outlive, in some form

God’s most empathic gift

“where are your tears?” she said

among yours, my love

and from above, I will speak to you

with the turgid comfort of a thunderstorm.

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