Bottomless Reservoirs Poem by Mark Heathcote

Our tears are tending to the stars.
With every tear, we blink.
A fractured crystal flowers its ink.
Opens its bottomless reservoirs,

I inhabit this void like a desert.
Serpent hissing at a golden disc.
Feigned with a poison basilisk
breath, with a kiss of certain death.

My heart is a floodgate buckling.
My love, a creaking dam half-built.
Washed aside, I sink in putrid silt.
Heart anchored heavily, thumping.

Our tears have ceased to matter;  
They're chains we've broken free from.
I wish we weren't so weak and benumb.
I wish we had a little more stature.

Our soul is a buoy we cling to.
When there's no place left to swim,
but I can't pretend to be a victim.
Of all that, I unwantedly accrue.

My tears are tending to the stars.
With every tear, I blink.
At times, I'm close to snapping like a dry twig.
Becoming the lunatic - everyone deplores.