by: Richard S. Sexton Jr.

Love,
My heart weighs down on me,
gracing the salt to leave my eyes,
coursing my face, cheek to jaw.

My shoulders have tightened,
over stressing my bones on down
to the very air in my lungs.

The grayness in my hair from tip
to root, increasing each second,
reverted only in these tears.

Leave a Reply