The Solitary Teardrop

A simple, solitary teardrop

Falls down her face

From the source that is her beautiful brown eye

The clear roundness of its bubble

Flowing down the hillside of her cheek

Before it bursts

As the salty taste gathers at her mouth

Then a trail, like that of a slug

Is left to dry slowly

Bloodshot eyes

And a headache

Are all that is left

From her brief presentation of emotion

She continues her day.