Cry, if you will but not for long.
Tears dampen the pillow
and confine the cold to the head.
Gone the days when romantic tears
were touched and dried
by the corner of a linen.
Today’s tears are great gulps
wrenched from the gut;
testifying to a technology
that bigger is better.
A lady, you, to swallow her tears.
But now we know that ulcers form
in the belly of unshed tears.
So rest easy.
Sleep will hollow the cloud,
giving comfort to infirm hearts
and in the pillow,
nested will be the lover.