Why would you cry after eating Ethiopian food?

Maybe you saw legions of jellyfish in the gulf,
little translucent angels floating in a grace you can never understand.
Maybe you hoped for rain,
the sky heaved and spat and clouded and disappointed you.
Maybe you saw a white butterfly
and you wanted to touch it, ask its name, somehow taste the way it flies.
Maybe you spilled coffee on the street in the morning
and in the forming, sullen puddle, you saw your reflection and realized you were aging.
Maybe because you sat on the sidewalk and a half-furred kitten snuggled up to you
and you could do nothing but pour some water for it even as it died.

Is it possible that you cried because you can't name the wonder?
Is it possible that you cried because there are so many more stars in your heart than in the sky?
It's not because you miss anyone
It's not because you were held by someone
It's not because you were scared

You didn't cry because you fell asleep beside two whores, right?
You didn't cry because your mother is dead, right?
You didn't cry because you can't talk to your father, right?

That's right, it was because the food tasted good.
Because the girls were worth it.
Because you always cry when you are happy.

Yeah, happy.
You always cry when you are happy.