“Can I help you sir?”
the well dressed woman asked me,
quite clearly not wishing
to help me, but
obliged to
by the constraints and commissions
of her job description,
my unshaven appearance,
red rimmed eyes
and uncombed hair
loud in her reading,
judging eyes.

Yes I said,
do you sell bottles to keep tears in?

She
looked at me for a handful
of dusty seconds
and then turned her back
and walked away
searching for a another customer
she wouldn’t have to judge
too much
for the sake of that precious
commission.

I left the store
and ventured into another,
futilely searching
for a bottle strong enough,
big enough
to hold tears,
so I might give you mine
when you return tomorrow
for that final box
of you
you left behind.
 

Edward Lee