So messy, so embarrassing,
so unforgiving of necessary distance.
The only remedy is refusal to speak,
a movement that could freeze
into a pose of catatonia,
a breath-hold forever.
This existential wish
to never more shed public tears
is suspect. Shouldn’t the globule drizzling down
the cheek be prized? Doesn’t it resemble mercury—an element
that expands vastly with small integers
of temperature? Hot planet, swift messenger
of pain or heat.