SOURCE OF SORROW

Source of sorrow, your
black pupils brand
and berate me. Your lips,
despite you, kiss me.
How you've sustained
that same dark look
with these eyes
trained on me now!

You smiled. What silence,
what lack of rejoicing!
How I sought you
out in your smile,
head of earth,
sad lips!

You don't cry, you wouldn't,
even if you wanted to;
your face has the burned-out look
of the blind.

You can laugh; I allow you
to, even though you can't.