The Pearl Tear

In the white of your eye I see
the speck of a seed pearl forming.
An irritant has stuck. You can’t get free
of it, nor can the speck undo the storming
tissue that wraps around it,
soft with tears at first, then hard with lustre.
Oh my dear, I wonder when you cry will it
slip down your cheek, and will you, flustered,
brush the pearl away with the back of your hand?
And if it lands nearby, will you notice it?
Will you pick it up, marvel, and thread it
onto a string of threats you’ve empearled?
Or will you ignore it, failing to understand,
and bare your neck again to the world?

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