| "Okay?"
The answer trembles on your chin prefiguring
a quivering collapse, your face no longer able
to maintain its rigidity.
Your widened eyes seem surprised by the sudden spurt of tears.
You whisper a not-okay "I'm okay"
and I feel unbearably tender.
I want you to stop sobbing as if you might otherwise
drown in a limpid pool of despair. But these tears are necessary.
The weight of the silver
light slamming on the window, the scent
of a quenched candle provide sufficient reasons.
I hold you, gently massaging your arms, smoothing away wisps
of hair from your face and wiping away lucid droplets from your cheeks,
but my hands are not helping you.
You are calmer now and I say "Perhaps tomorrow will be better."
This time we both weep. | 
