Tears, Ears, Fears

Tears, Ears, Fears

So. I am thinking of ears, I am thinking of tears, I am thinking of fears. I am thinking of the hot and cold feeling of your face flushed, the pools of water filling and dripping. I am thinking of the ache and the scrunch of muscles around the nose - the space between the eyebrows, tiny muscles scattered all over the face pulling and squeezing and contorting the face. I am thinking of the bubbling from the crevices, the growing, the creation, the miracle, the mystery. I am thinking of the combination of peace, effortless, struggle and pain, the order and the chaos, the relaxing and the tension. I am thinking of the gentle trickle, the journey, the steady, constant travel under the lower eyelashes, rolling softly, fatly, into the crevice, the hollows under the eyes, slipping and flowing, marching, flying, sprinting, flurrying, flooding, floods? Or gentle trickles? I was picturing more calm, slow, intentional, but maybe there is some anger, angst, rush, a flood. Maybe? I think maybe it is more, peaceful silent tears, not angry hot rage, but hopeless, still, quiet, calm, frozen solid tears - could I freeze my tears into an ice cube and let it melt slowly into a space - anyway, a soft quiet, calm feeling, how can I reflect that using the rest of the space? A glow - I want the tears to feel beautiful, radiant. They could be joyful tears, they are necessary tears. I am thinking of the journey of the rolling, slip, slip, slide, like an adventure, like freedom, like a rush of motion.