They leak out of my eyes and run down my face in small rivers.
I am now used to their comings and goings; they are unbidden at times, whilst at other times they are triggered by a memory. ... by a song.
Sometimes they fall from my face in fat, salty drops to wet my blouse or fall to the carpet, while other times they dry on my cheeks leaving their faint trace of salt.
They are like a nosy neighbour - if you don't let them in every so often, they catch you off guard when you'd rather they left you alone....
I know them too well.