The Trajectory of a Tear Drop

I needed a good cry, didn't you, sometimes,
not all the time,
but sometimes,
now,
yes now,
especially since things were different than they were at the turn of the century,
hollow even,
and especially recently,
maybe five minutes ago,
too,
when I did not know I needed it,
but I sure as hell need it now,
need it bad,
need it good,
need it to last for several minutes so I can get good and clean,
it would be some kind of cleanse,
my ducts could be tributaries of sorts,
yes,
they might as well be that,
I was a clown anyway,
and this could drip down me,
and I could get good and wet,
because,
like I said,
I needed a good cry,
and you did,
too,
I know you did,
even if you did not want to say it aloud,
if you would only just do it,
and then we could do it together,
and together,
we would be none the wiser about each other's weakness,
we would call it shared,
if nothing else,
and years and years from now,
we would call on our sense memory,
and we would remember that recalling certain events,
recalling Tuesdays,
could often take us there,
back to where we learned to chase waterfalls,
all the way home,
to our soggy pillows