by coup contrecoup

Hold my hand as I step to this ledge. Hearts, golden and pure,

tangled in a barbed wire mess.

the ever beating pump continues.

Evidence in automaticity-

there isn’t much seclusion when your up this high…

basking in the glory of the landscape. strong winds teasing us,

our toes hang over the edge… gravity- ever pulling.

script written in ancient history.

a text beyond any earth bound language. out lives to be enter twined-

an opening to my soul and mind existed in your voice.

He knew what he was doing…

your distance traveled when we made the leap.

the split second we thought we were flying. holding my hand with crushing intensity.

nothing was going to bring us down-

except our own weight

shocked to learn the flight was over-

all along we were falling.

flapping my arms in a hilarious panic-

as if I had the capability to carry us all…

smashing to pieces,

left to pick through it all,

sorting through this tragedy,

thousands of miles away, we still fall together,


thousands of miles away in seperation,

we let the tears fall simultaneously on common ground

wishing we could fly again,

I would take that leap, a million times; the love, the trust,

throwing our cautions off that cliff.

He knew…

He knew…

place your hand in mine, recycle these memories,

this was our time granted together,

fly your direction as I plummet to the ground,

use the compass I gave you to find your new direction,

here I sit, sorting through the pieces. The pieces he knew I would finally discover.

Galatians 6:8