Onions and Tears

These
onions
know my eyes
by
their real names;
how they
call.

And
how my
eyes respond
hurts.
They open
their gates
wide

As
they flood
settlements
on
my dry cheeks
without
hold.

Then,
my nose
response too.
It
picks calls not
meant for
It.

I
cry not
for onions’
sake.
I cry for
my lost
Love.

Younglan Louis