Bill doesn't know how you handle life at all.
Like: if he spills a glass of milk,
he doesn't exactly cry over it
but he does think about all the potential
children he's lost to the sheets
alone in covering his cold body.
For that, he weeps.
It's unseemly for a man his size
to shed so many tears
and so silently.
Crying like this makes him think
about the water he’s wasting
when he brushes his teeth,
letting the faucet drown the bottom of the sink
in a filtered stream from the river.
Bill loves the river and he's spilling it, everywhere.
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