November 30, 2012

#26

Well, I thought falling was imperfect,
that there was no way around the lightning splitting trees,
no way to prevent the shatter that inevitably ensues,
only cataracts to look through and
misery-tainted ears to listen through, but
as always I was wrong because
when I fell off of a skyscraper, I can't be sure if you pushed me or if I jumped.
That's beside the point.
When I hit the ground and looked up you were there and
it didn't matter that people were circling around me like paparazzi vultures,
all that mattered was seeing you give me a thumbs up
from the top balcony all
that mattered was your crinkled smile.
If falling is like this all the time then I don't mind splitting in half occasionally because
you'll just grab your keys and go,
drive fast away,
find the duck tape and
piece me together again.

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