By Eric, thenuttman@aol.com
Date: 16 July 2000
Pool Of Tears
in the dark under sheets, she lies at his side, asleep
a pool of tears forms in the nook, where her eyes and nose meet
a shallow pond for drifting dreams and imagery scenes
to float across as they sway away from her facial seams
she's creating, a painting...a Bob Ross, a happy tree
she's causing pains in his side as he knows what she means
she has more emotion from one tear, drained from one eye
than he could have in lifetime of tears...but this time, he knows
she has become cold, their relationship once of gold
has now turned to stone, and here with her, he lies alone
to dream
in the sun under faint stars, she sits in the light, glowing
her hair, bleached, she soon retreats, her eyes meet, his pupils growing
can't believe what he sees, her nudity screams, as the blood quickly flows
and passion exceeds, the typical needs, and hours from now they'll be known
they're creating, a painting...a Da Vinci, a Rembrandt
brought life into life, into strife, with a love that just can't
they have more pain that they need, and still yet, planting seeds
and in time he will find, this is all in his mind, for in week she would bleed
seemingly so, she would already know, and back to the same
they lie silent at night, with no use to fight, for the blame
and they dream
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