I flout the censure that forbids adult tears,
Demands a man prove his virility.
By dissolving in tears whilst withholding constraint
I follow the orders of my body.
I'm in liquid expansion,
I make myself cry
To prove my grief isn't illusion.
Tears are signs not expressions
That of body not speech
Words what are they
One tear says more than all of 'em
2 comments:
I expand in a liquid fashion most frequently, I fear. But I am not ashamed. I just make sure to spend my time with no one who does not understand such tendencies.
I despise that censure. It means I have to helplessly watch my friends suffer, keeping my hands to myself. Because if I do the natural thing and wrap my arms around them or even put a hand on their shoulder, the floodgates will open and they will suffer a far greater mortification.
Why does physical contact have this effect? Perhaps I smell of raw onions. In any case, it's here in the Ladies Rule Book:
Do not touch a man who looks on the verge of tears. Pretend you are oblivious and talk about the weather. Especially crucial if the man is your father.
I have also learnt that stating your unfortunate position, "I really want to put my arms around you just now, but I'm afraid if I do so those tears will start rolling and you'll hate me for it." has much the same result as committing the indelicate deed.
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