Triste

Whatever drips from us,
Sometimes pours,
Blood, mucous, sweat,
Urine, semen, tears,

Whatever is waxy or wet,
Viscous or slick,
Mostly in sickness
But also in health

We just can’t contain ourselves.
There’s always something
Gathering, massing,
Welling up, looking for the closest
Causeway, pore, portal, duct—