Plastic googly eye accoutrements
glued onto the sea of faceless white saris
Their tears
cheer me on as I waltz towards
The End.
I expect to feel Something,
Anything
roll down my stone cheeks
but instead
I feel a stillness
like none other I’ve felt before.
This time
it’s on the inside.
They murmur with their invisible tongues,
“Why did she stop crying?”
And I wonder the same.
The Tears!
Where could they have gone?
Did they evaporate already?
I swear I felt them on my face,
just a few minutes ago before I confronted
My Reality.
But don’t you worry about me.
I manage to manufacture the water.
They say only our kind are capable of such deeds.
The “dreamless.”
In other words,
We Women.
I remember the dreams I used to have.
Hell, the Dreams I still have.
The Dreams of potions
stirring in the cauldron of my Mind,
Dreams of the ways the tiny particles meet.
I’d like to think
they treat one another with respect.
Maybe those particles are The Solution.
Outlandish!
Preposterous!
Inconceivable!
Thought melts away
as the embers graze against my Skin.