The tears in my eyes
are treasures to me.
I wrap each drop
carefully in tissue
and place it in a box.
I take them out
when I want to see
my mother’s smile,
hear her voice
or remember her eyes
when we held conversation
during the scarce time
that both of us could afford.
If I treasure the tears
long enough, would a tear-fairy
come along and trade
each tear for each moment
to live again.
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