Tears torn from the eyes of a weeping woman.
Emotions swelling beyond inhibition, past control.
Too late to bottle, too late to hide, even if desire so induced:
A wish not wished.

Passion, desperately conveyed,
A plea for understanding.
A plea... In a tear.

Who decided that emotion should be conveyed through water?
Who thought desperation, joy, and sorrow, should be shown in a flood?

Perhaps through its streams it was to rinse away the sting.
Perhaps the tides were to cleanse, leaving a brighter prospect.

Perhaps it was right that water was chosen;

Tears left, carrying away a bit of pain with each drop.
Transporting the hurt in rivulets down the softened cheek, 
Absorbed into the comforting shoulder that supported it.
A plea... Understood.