The Hamlet Project

Unrighteous tears oughtn’t have salt in them
Like the others.
You should be able to lick a tear stained check
And know
If her heart was in the crying.
That the tears and ocean are made of
The same stuff,
That our emotional tides churn salt
The way the moon shifts the journey of water
Fathoms deep,
That brine ebbs and flows
In the body as it does on the sand
Seems no small accident.
When I cry, I leak the taste of the ocean.
I release the memory of a wave.