I have made a desert of your tears
fine uncried tears
untasted,
held back as if they were there
(which they probably were not)
I alone wade in pools of salt,
slick rims of red clay
spattered about my eyes
brimming round and spilling
like unkept promises,
drowning my soul
with dreams
of your desert.

your great dry desert of
empty promises
and
most certainly
empty
of
tears.