Salty tears rest in a few different places in my body.
Right behind my bottom eyelids.
At the base of my tongue.
Just atop my chest.
What breaks the levy?
What sends the tears flowing from behind my eyelids to the length of my round face?
What sends them from my tongue to my lips?
What turns the gentle pressure into a pounding on my lungs?
A perfect melody
A pure smile
A confession
An answer
Sometimes nothing at all
A moment
A lie turned truth
A breakthrough
A release
Piercing silence
Unprecedented hope
Uncharted territory
Passion-fueled art
Soon enough though, the salt will dry up on my face.
The last bit of muffled weeping will find its way out.
My lungs will return to resting rate, the weight lifted.
Maybe a smile will appear.
A beaming, uninhibited smile.
A laugh
A dance
Brightened eyes
A shout
A not-so-perfect melody
Many times, fatigue
A sober heart
It’s a cycle. A beautifully twisted cycle.
The waiting with the weight not knowing,
when the flood will finally come again,
when the washing away to make way for more will happen.
The tension.
The bubbling.
The “almost doesn’t count.”
Catarata.
The emancipation of baptism.
Only to eventually be ushered back into anticipation.
Waiting for another chance.
The thing is—
there is a melody on either end of the eruption.
The sweet sound of joy finds its way into the depths of either extreme of the human experience.
The silence doesn’t have to be maddening.
Remember your melody and sing it freely.
Look into the tear-filled eyes of those you love.
Find where the tears rest in your body.
Please don’t be afraid of them.
Your own or anyone else’s.
Cover photo: Andresa Silva by Mateus Souza via pexels.com
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