Paper sharp

Tears, paper sharp,
spreading down like the roots of a tree
over my body.

My eyes, a fountain of birth,
covering me, draping me
with a glimmering blanket
of salt and water.

Tears, paper sharp -
for them,
like a million cuts as they reach towards me;
their pain, my kingdom.

My eyes, closed, the silence of a heartbeat;
while outside

the world dies.