Free Fall

Nostalgia’s quick and easy grasp

the memory trigger pushes us

up and over the edge we go.

There’s no use in feeling

the height of this fall

will be enough

to kill us both.

We have these last few seconds

here on this earth

before we reset and start again.

Her hands have always been the steadiest,

she reaches and takes control.

The force of wind is blinding

it’s hard on the eyes to pay attention,

and just like she always does,

this free fall stops and hovers.

The outside world go washing by

still, we’re in this protected bubble

she’s quietly inside

repeating the words

from a 2000 year old Sufi poet.

“i want you to laugh

to kill all your worries

to love you

to nourish you.”

With those words

and her soft kiss

the free fall is over

with no light or warning

we abruptly stop

the last sound

the thud of our bodies.

With the dust cleared and settled

in what should be two bodies

there was simply nothing.

One response to “Free Fall”

  1. “Art for the artist, is only suffering through which he releases himself for further suffering.”

    Kafka

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