January 8, 2012
You were crying, crying
amidst your protective words
and playful whispers

And (haha) isn't it terrible
how I touch oblivious grinning
and I instantly
can turn efforts to dust

(Oh, I pretend
though you cannot
withstand my amount)

I kept them in a glass jar
with me--a collection.
Thought I rinsed it in rain
a few short back (dear)

No, I mean to say it--you.
Your tears are mine
And nothing has gone to waste.

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