I Name A Tear After You
I name a tear after you
It would not fall
Morning leans in
cold on the lashes
a brightness I couldn’t enter
It stayed
a small glass seed
lodged behind the ribs
wintering
No letters, no sound
Only this
a hard, clear silence
refusing thaw
I carry it
like a period of ice
at the end of a sentence
I no longer read
And still
somewhere warmer
water begins to move
through the chambers
touching the frozen name
until it blurs