Distilled Tears

Poets do in fact cry, we tend towards distillation...

Distilled Tears

For two days and a night
The shattered shards of
My once-whole heart
Have lain in ruins
Bleeding on the coffee table

The window to outside
Taunts me beckoning till
I look for the car
No longer parked there
Waiting for the knock that will not come

Pictures of laughter
Line the mantle
The empty bottle once full
Of our favorite wine
Holds only tears

I can wait for food
Sleep and dreams
I can wait for your return
Though my diet will be
Red wine and distilled tears

The jigsaw of my heart
Waits on the coffee table
Near another tall green bottle
Wine and time will be the glue
To reshape this broken man

dragoneyes