Drops of rain rolled down the blue glass window.
My desireless soul watched them,
each drop a small weight sliding downward.
It felt strangely peaceful—
like the world was grieving in my place.
"Are you crying for me?"
My eyes stayed dry.
No tears traced my cheeks.
Only the window wept.
Then, suddenly, the glass grew clear—
no drops left to follow,
though outside the storm still raged.
My heart throbbed against my ribs,
a hollow ache I could not name.
"Have you, too, chosen not to cry?"