The tracks of her tears visible,
indivisible
from the pain etched,
randomly sketched,
stretched
lazily down her swollen face,
wetness a mere trace,
but blotches of red still in place,
reflecting various states;

Creating a patchwork of emotion,
confusing signs,
and specific times
with blurry lines.

Remnants of sorrow,
diminished on the morrow
but not forgotten;
thinned like worn cotton
but fresh enough to make her still feel rotten.